Their Beautiful World
by AIwah
Summary: In which we explore the beautiful world through the eyes of a lover, and shine light into the forgotten corners of China/Japan... One little poem at a time. • Now presenting: "Crimson Galleon" • Collection is closed. •
1. Preface

**Preface**

**••• **

**I need not conquer.**

**For our beautiful world, is**

**All the world to me.**

** •••**

**The world two lovers share can be such a beautiful place.**

Whether you're still a spectator, or whether you're already that one significant other, we all have to face it at some point in our lives: love has that magical, _dangerous _power to make the world a place you'll never want to leave ever again. When entrusted into the right hands, love can also be molded into a key that unlocks completely _new _worlds. World with mental panoramas never known to you before, and premises you never could have stumbled upon with an empty hand.

As a fan fiction writer who has her heart set on the (sadly hypothetical) romance between fictional characters Wang Yao (China) and Honda Kiku (Japan) of the Hetalia fandom, it's a part of my job to prove this to you.

I've been attempting to do just that right here on fan fiction . net for the last two years now, weaving as many stages as I can for their relationship to take place. I've always tried to make the stories as MASSIVE as I can, just so that I have plenty of room to slot in all the beautiful little pieces of their relationship, and leave my readers with another insight to the meaning behind their pairing.

But then the question arises: _what of the smaller_ _pieces of the spectrum?_

I've exposed the larger image, so now, what do I have to say for the tinier slivers that make up this beautiful world Yao and Kiku share?

THAT, my beloved readers, is the very reason why this compilation of poetry had been conceived.

As a trainee writer, I've always held the firm belief that poetry can do and say things that novels cannot. Now, don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that either one is better than the other. Comparing poetry and novel-writing in the context of literacy is like comparing a tennis and football player: you can't judge tennis players based on how well they can kick a football, and you can't judge a football player by how well they serve a tennis ball either. I'm just saying that a poem can do and say so many things where a novel isn't as equally apt. For one, poems can take the most trivial things into the palm of their hands and train them to blossom into the most spectacular of flowers.

With that in mind, now I hope to do the same with my fandom. I hope to scoop up all the little shards I have scattered in the making of my bigger projects, and sow them into potent things in this new collection. I want to shower light to the forgotten corners of the ChuNi fandom; give profound, poetic value to every mote of dust that'd been lost in between the chapters, and turn every footprint Yao and Kiku had taken on their perilous journey together into timeless artifacts.

But most of all, I just want to entertain, and learn to entertain.

So what do you say? Want to witness the beauty of the world through a lover's eyes with me, and expose the poetic magnificence behind every kink and curve in the crimson thread that binds out favourite Asian nations together?

You'd better be.

Because I could really use some help gathering all these shards without having to sign up for an eye transplant later on.

Huzzah!

-Plumeria-hi

* * *

><p>Some things to keep in mind throughout the journey:<p>

a) The pairing that will **inevitably **be used in every single poem is China/Japan. Not Japan/China though, because I'm not particularly fond of that pairing too much. Apologies aplenty if I've offended anyone with that last line. We can still be friends, can't we?

b) However, perhaps some variations of China/Japan may be used as well: I'm thinking 2p, Nyotalia, Nekotalia, Mochitalia, etc. China/Japan, and all the variations in between. Love triangles may even be plausible (**note: **if you're not particularly fond of some of these variations or love triangles, don't fret; I _will _warn you if I'm going to stray from the tangent).

c) Throughout the poem, you will also come across '•' symbols. This symbol doesn't mean anything but a replacement for the normal double-enter command, so please don't be confused, otay!~

d) Expect poetry style to differ. I'm not picky when it comes to what type of poem I'm writing, since I believe that poetry can be _anything_, so long as it has artistically-manipulated literature, and conveys a story or meaning. Sometimes I may not even follow a particular style of poetry at all! … But do tell me if it irks you. I don't want to get under anyone's skin.

e) As usual, I am free to ANY comments you might have in mind on my poems. Criticism; praise; expectations - _any at all_! So please don't be shy if you have anything you'd like to say in mind. All and any comments, either via review or pm, will be greatly appreciated.

f) I'm also not as experienced yet when it comes to writing poetry, so feel free to give me feedback on how to get bette- oh, you know what? Screw that: _PLEASE DO _give me feedback on how to get better at my writing. It'll mean a lot to this little rookie when you do.


	2. Paper Planes

**Hello-hello-hello again, fellow slap-happy humans!**

**Perhaps, you have just staggered back in surprise, at the realization that I have not been hit by a bus (yet) (or maybe a motorcycle sounds more realistic here; there seems to be just more and more of those pummeling through the streets here in Surabaya - _gah_! Digressing again and again!).**

**Or perhaps, now that you are aware of the fact that I have not yet been hit by a _motorcycle_, you are in the mood to _squish me flat_ with a _roadroller_ instead, because I have not yet published the promised story 'As The Gods Say' (*insert sheepish 'haw-haw' here*)... B-b-but I've already typed it in, honest! A-and I'm proof-reading it as fast as I can!**

**-So for now, my unfortunate, (probably... ?) disappointed readers will just have to make do with a little itsy bit of something I had found during my latest memory dive into the contents of my notebook.**

**For those of you who have checked out my profile, if memory serves well, I do recall once saying that other than writing stories, I am also sufficiently fond of poetry - either reciting it or writing it. **

**In this manner, I've decided to present something a little different than what I usually publish up here on ; just a little freeverse I recycled from a very, _very _old Songfic I'd based off of a certain Vocaloid song (see if you can guess which one as you read this!)**

**With that said, last but not least _and _as per usual, a few points to come across before you get started;**

**(see preface for points)**

_**Aaand**_**... E'yup, that's all! You're all free to go! *fly~***

**... I... Seem to be getting very bad at ending my author notes, for some reason.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Paper planes<strong>_

_In which the delicate thread which binds together two partners, in a cruel, dark world, is put to the ultimate test._

Everyday

When father leaves for work

I put on a shawl

And sneak out of the hospital.

•

I stalk the streets,

careful

so as not to be seen.

Jump over the dusty creek

To where the cherry trees don't grow.

•

Run towards the direction of the setting Sun.

•

To where a barbed iron fence stood

Forlornly

In the dry, dead Earth.

•

I carefully take out

A paper plane.

•

On it

Neatly written characters of

Ink.

•

And I toss it gently into the air

Where it defies the fence

And lands into

a pair of dirt-ridden hands

Accepting the letter eagerly.

•

A new

Paper plane

Would appear over the fence

And plummet into

my outstretched hands.

•

On it

Neatly written characters of

Charcoal.

•

We smile at each other.

That was all I needed.

That was all

He

Needed.

•

In this cruel world

Of illness and pain

His love for me was all

I

Needed.

•

It was a forbidden love, but I didn't care.

* * *

><p>Everyday.<p>

When the soldiers aren't looking.

I abandon my prison duties

And duck underneath the overgrown hedges.

•

Run towards the direction of the rising Sun.

•

To where a barbed iron fence stood

Keeping me away

From the outside world,

Where the cherry trees grew.

•

To where

He

Is waiting anxiously for me.

•

He takes out a carefully-folded

Paper plane

And throws it over

The fence

To my outstretched hands.

•

I throw him

Mine

And we open ours.

•

We would smile at each other.

That was all I needed.

That was all

He

Needed.

•

In this dark world

Of war and captivity

His love for me was all

I

Needed.

•

It was a painful love, but I didn't give a damn.

* * *

><p>"Hey, there's something wrong with Kiku!"<p>

"Someone help him!"

"_I _don't want to touch him!"

"_Gross_!"

•

I laid on the ground,

Immobilized in a seizure,

Blood and fluids spurting out of my mouth,

Mixing with the tears,

As I tried desperately to stop myself.

•

Suddenly,

I felt arms

Propping me up,

Wiping the disgusting mixture dribbling down my chin

Without a care in the world.

•

All whom I considered 'friends' jeered.

•

Not at me

But at

Him.

•

"Oh, look who's here."

"It's _Shina_ boy-aru!"

•

"Well, at least _I'm _doing something about this! If you're all just going to stand there and gape at Kiku, you're better off somewhere else!"

•

That did it.

They all fled the scene,

Never looking back.

•

He held me

Tighter,

Rocking my body back and forth

Like a child.

•

"There, there Kiku. You're safe with me now. See? I'm here now."

•

It was the most soothing voice

In the

Whole wide world.

It made the seizure,

The blood,

The tears,

All stop.

•

"Yao?"

"Yes, Kiku?"

"Th-thank you… Yao."

* * *

><p>"Hello everyone! I'm Wang Yao!"<p>

•

Immediately

The whole class burst into laughter.

•

I felt my spirits crumbling.

•

"Shina!"

"Shina!"

"'_I'm Wang Yao-aru_!' Ha-ha!"

"Look at that ponytail!"

"Only girls grow their hair out like that - "

•

"_Please stop that_."

•

All eyes fell onto

A quiet

Frail-looking boy

At the back of the classroom.

•

"… What, Kiku?"

•

"Please stop that. Stop teasing Yao."

"Why are you standing up for Shina?"

"His name is not Shina, it's Yao."

•

Despite the whole class

Staring

At him,

Kiku stood up and

Offered

An outstretched hand to

Me.

•

"Come on Yao. Let's go play together."

* * *

><p>Five years ago,<p>

I'd been diagnosed

With hemolytic-uremic syndrome.

•

If

Yao

Hadn't been there to soothe me,

I would have died.

* * *

><p>One minute<p>

I had been painting flowers with Kiku.

•

The next

I was locked up in a place,

Where the soldiers

Beat me up

And

Called me rude names.

•

If

Kiku

Had never peered through that iron fence

And called out my name,

I would have died

Of loneliness.

* * *

><p>After Yao disappeared, my seizures became more frequent.<p>

•

I had to leave

School

And was locked up in a hospital

Where doctors

Stabbed me

With pipes and needles.

•

At first I had thought

That father had locked me up

On purpose

Because I had found out where he'd sent Yao.

•

I was determined to see Yao out ever since then.

•

Even when that ward

Became my new home, I

Never

Left him alone.

•

But it wasn't

Until I had one unfortunate seizure,

And became paralyzed

For _hours_,

That I found out the

True reason

Why I was in that hospital.

•

And father found out the

True reason

Why I fold my paper planes.

* * *

><p>Kiku didn't show to receive my paper planes one day.<p>

•

He had some sort of illness,

A syndrome

If I remember well.

•

I had tried scrambling up

The fence

To find him.

•

I still have the gashes on my body.

•

All that's left to do

Is sit behind

That fence,

The

Paper planes

In my pocket,

Doubling by the day,

In vain hope that Kiku will turn up somehow.

•

It has been five days.

* * *

><p>It has been five days and I already have exactly three tubes and a needle.<p>

•

It is

Excruciatingly painful,

That I shan't lie about.

•

But what was

More painful

Than the tubes and needles

Was the fact that I hadn't seen

Yao

For five days.

•

But the

Paper planes

Will surely not fly themselves.

•

With a wince,

I yanked the needles

And untangled the pipes.

•

And off I go.

* * *

><p>I glimpsed a familiar silhouette<p>

Come towards the fence.

•

"Kiku! Kiku... !

"…What happened to you?"

* * *

><p>His voice trailed away as he saw<p>

My bloodshot eyes,

The gashes on my body

From the pipes and needles.

•

He had gashes all over him as well.

•

"Yao… Read this, please."

•

I passed

A paper plane

To him.

•

It broke my heart

To see him read with

Eyes

Wide in terror.

•

But I had to tell him soon.

* * *

><p>"<em>Dear Yao<em>

_I'm sorry I couldn't see you so soon._

_This might be my last paper plane. I pray not, but I can't stop this uncanny feelings of fear that it might be._

_I don't have much time left _- "

•

I couldn't bear to read the rest.

* * *

><p>He looked up at<p>

Me

Sorrow in his eyes.

•

Why was I the only one smiling?

* * *

><p>How could he smile at a time like this!<p>

•

I didn't bother

To hold the tears back.

* * *

><p>Before the<p>

Tears

Could fall,

I turned my back on him.

•

Maybe that,

Or I couldn't bear it

Seeing him this way.

* * *

><p>"Kiku! <em>No<em>, don't go!"

•

I screamed after him,

The tears

Cascading down my cheeks,

Leaving a clear path in the grime.

•

"Kiku, no, wait! Y-you're my partner for life, remember? Kiku!

"I-I love you! _Please_!

"I'll wait for you, alright? I'll wait for you, right here, every single day, until you come back.

"… _I love you_."

* * *

><p>"Goodbye Yao."<p>

•

My feet were burning

But

I didn't care.

•

I ran away

Leaving behind me

My love

And my last paper plane.

* * *

><p>It was like<p>

A knife through my chest.

•

Did he know I kept every single one?

* * *

><p>"<em>Sir! Sir! He's failing<em>!"

"Get his father quick!"

•

It's getting harder to breathe.

It was like

An invisible force,

Squeezing my lungs.

•

… No! It can't be!

… _Can't be_…

_Pant_.

•

"How could this have happened!"

•

No…

_Pant_.

_No…_

_Pant_.

_No!_

_No! No! No! No! No! NO!_

_ •_

How will he smile now!

•

I-I just…

_Pant._

I just n-n-need more time…

_Pant._

_Wheeze._

_Pant._

•

Yao…

Where are you?

* * *

><p>I stared at the<p>

Paper plane

In my hands.

•

The tears kept

Surging.

It fell everywhere:

On the ground,

On my clothes.

•

On the paper plane.

•

"That's him! Bring him to me!"

•

I swiveled around,

And screamed.

•

But to no avail.

•

Two soldiers seized me by the arms

And forced me

To face their

Leader.

•

An evil man,

Scowling at me devilishly.

•

He snatched the

Paper plane

Out of my hands.

•

"Hey! Give that back! It's not yours to take!"

•

I know he won't,

But I had to at least try.

•

The demon sighed.

•

"Oh Kiku… You are too innocent for the world…"

•

"K-Kiku? You know Ki-"

•

"_I'm his father, you little bastard_!"

•

My eyes widened in terror.

•

Kiku…

_Is the son of this demon?_

•

"P-please… Let me see him again, sir… _Please_ – I-"

•

"You think you can!_ You think you CAN_!"

The demon screamed at me,

"he's dying! My son is _dying_, and it's all your fault!

"_Yours_!"

•

At this point

We were both

Crying;

Sobbing hysterically.

•

But then

The unthinkable happened.

•

He held

The paper plane

Just inches from my face…

•

_And tore it to shreds_.

•

And I didn't even get the chance to finish reading it!

•

"_No_! How could you!"

•

I didn't care if he was Kiku's father.

•

I thrashed with all my might

And hit him

Right at the face.

•

"How dare you, Chinese bastard!"

•

But he hit me harder.

•

And soon, all three men were hitting me

Harder than I would have ever

Hit them.

•

Then it stopped just as soon as it had started.

•

And I was left

To die,

Splayed in a pool of my own essence,

Sprays of my blood and shreds of paper,

And beautiful characters

In ink

Scattered about me like fallen angels.

•

As if to mock me,

A shred lay just inches

From my broken neck.

•

And written on it,

In Kiku's elegant penmanship,

•

Was a message which sent me to tears all over again.

•

_I love you Yao. Remember it always._

* * *

><p>Who will soothe me<p>

When my body trembles and quakes?

* * *

><p>Who will stand up for me<p>

When the rest of the world spits at my name?

* * *

><p>There is no more<p>

Light

For these flowers

To go on.

* * *

><p>I just need<p>

One more

Paper crane.

One more would be enough.

* * *

><p>If I die,<p>

I want

Him

To continue living for me.

* * *

><p>If I don't make it,<p>

I want

Him

To keep smiling for me.

* * *

><p>But how will we smile at each other now… ?<p>

•

_Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep-_

* * *

><p>•<p>

•

•

Since that day

We've always been together.

The deep darkness engulfed us both.

•

But it never took away our happiness.

* * *

><p>Since that day<p>

We've always been together.

The deep darkness engulfed us both.

•

But I've never forgotten that smiling face.

* * *

><p>Until tomorrow,<p>

At the other side of the fence.

* * *

><p>Until tomorrow,<p>

Where cherry trees grow,

And lovers can be together.

* * *

><p>Where love was once paper planes.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Yay, poetry~ !<strong>

**So, the story behind this was: back when I was in the middle of writing 'Your Sun, My Stars', I was listening to a heart-warming Vocaloid song called 'Paper Plane', sung by the awe-inspiring Kagamine twins, and since the song touched me so much, I decided to take a break from my bigger project and write my very first (pathetically soppy) songfic! It was initially just a one-shot I'd abandoned somewhere at the back of my notebook.**

**But while I was writing the new, secret fan fiction, I managed to stumble across it once more... And I immediately remembered why I didn't even _think _about publishing the thing in the first place! That one-shot not only contained too much flamboyancy and figurative speech to be taken seriously, but it was also much too rushed. Administering these details immediately, I was stuck with having to make the choice of either putting up a tacky old one-shot up here on fanfiction . net, or trashing what could have been a pretty darn good plot for some cheesy romance fanfic.**

**So finally, I made the decision to just...**

**Recycle *grin*.**

**But - anyways! Since this is the first time I've actually tried posting some poetry, in contrary to the usual one-shot's and mushy saga's, I would really like to know what you, as my valued readers, think! Were there things I should keep up? And are there aspects of the poem that I need to work on and improve for the next time? I don't write poetry as often as I write stories, so some feedback would really be appreciated.**

**Oh - and as a last statement: once again... I'M PROOFREADING AS FAST AS I CAN!  
><strong>

**Have mercy on me... !  
>-Plumeria hi<strong>


	3. Cute

**For starters, this is just a small questions, buuut... Are you here to look for a freeverse poem that was previously entitled 'Paper Planes?'**

**Well, let me just say that you have come to the _RIGHT PLACE_!... It may not look like it at this point, but rest assured that it IS the right place (and when have I ever lied to you?... I hope I've never lied to you.)If you'd like to know more about that, you may read the preface that I'll have up in a while.**

**Anyways, this is a poem called 'Cute', which I wrote from Kiku's perspective. Contrary to the last one, I tried to experiment with rhymes in this one. I just hope it turned out alright, since I haven't written anything with rhymes since last year (which may or may not have involved something about valentines day...) but then again, that's for you to decide *grin*.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cute<strong>_

_In which Japan fails to notice something._

You say that I am 'cute'

And things along that line,

You tell me every single day

Through rain or sleet or shine.

•

But do pray tell, my dearest Yao

Is that the only sound,

That paints the portrait of my face

In your mind to be found?

•

I draped myself in robes

Of finest scarlet hue,

On lunar new year evening

With thoughts of seeing you.

•

I wanted to look pretty

Enough to catch your stare,

And tell me with your sultry voice

My beauty and my flair.

•

I came off rather flashy, but I never despaired…

•

Until you said that 'c' word as I skimmed the flight of stairs.

•

"How CUTE you are my Kiku!"

You cried out with a smile,

Not knowing of the pain that I was feeling all the while,

"you dressed in red tonight?

My favourite, don't you know!

(My dearest Yao, I knew by heart

But never let it show)

That 'dress' of yours looks splendid,

And fits you oh so snug,

You're so cute that I want you to be smothered in my HUG!"

•

I left you to your hug alone,

And quietly limped away,

With vows that I would get it out of you one day someday!

•

Now let's flip to the next page of this nation's great dismay.

•

I walked through bleary halls, in

a uniform of white,

Pristinely-pressed as possible

If just to snare your sight.

•

I wanted to look sweet, in

A colour that's so pure,

A contrast to the black that I had soiled in demure.

To show you that I have the things

You think cannot be found,

And also to say sorry,

For all the things I'd done.

•

With hopes that you still love this little land of rising Sun's…

•

But when you said that 'c' word all I wanted was to _run_.

•

"Hello", you said to me,

When we met in that hall.

I'd felt surprised you bothered to say anything at all.

"The wars are over Kiku,

now let us be at peace.

So please don't run from me no more

And let us be at ease.

•

"I see you've changed your uniform

and I just have to say:

this new one suits you better

and it's CUTER by the way!"

•

Your words had left me dull for the remainder of the day.

•

And now my dearest Yao,

I ask do you recall,

That one United Nations Day

When Alfred held a ball?

•

I lingered at the back, in

A finely-tailored suit,

Rejecting all the others

And awaiting your pursuit.

•

I know I'm too petite

But I wanted to look smart,

So that you could behold me

Like a priceless work of art.

And ask if you could stay,

And never leave my sight,

To spend the time together for the rest of a good night.

•

And as you came a-bounding for a moment I felt right…

•

Until you said that 'c' word, which gave me such a fright.

•

"Oh bless my stars, my Kiku!"

You chuckled as you say,

"are you the Kiku that I saw

Just early yesterday?

That suit just looks so different,

And too grown-up to boot,

But most of all, I just can't stress

That you look really CUTE!"…

•

And something in me snapped,

I screamed, "enough, ENOUGH!"

My cheeks flared red

And with a hand

I pushed you back too rough.

•

I stormed away from you that day

As tears burst from my eye.

•

_But what pained me the most was that you may never know why._

_ •_

But know of this, my dearest Yao

I'll always love you still,

Along with seasons changing

And for years to come I will.

•

I've wanted to be more,

Than just another face,

That you can say "how cute!" before

You run away with haste.

•

To be more than a plushy,

A 'brother' or a friend,

To be forever yours, and

For you to be my man.

•

You say that I am 'cute',

And for now that is fine,

But do pray tell, my dearest Yao

When will you call me 'mine'?

* * *

><p><strong>After reading that, what do you think Japan failed to notice in the end? Think about the things Yao says to him, and the last line of the poem, and tell me if you think you've figured it out!<strong>

**... If you want to, that is. Don't worry, I'll still love you even if you don't.**

**-Plumeria hi**


	4. Dragon Boats

**I'm miserable, I'm stressed-out, I've overworked, _and I'm back with another poem! _HUZZAH!**

**Frankly speaking, I had absolutely no idea how the inspiration for this one came about. I think it can be somehow, _partially _attributed to the fact that my head's been throbbing so much over the last couple of days that I just had to vent it all on a piece about drums, while the other side of the story involves a thought about what Yao would be like on a dragon boat... I was greatly disappointed in myself for a few minutes after that, because the second the notion popped up in my head, I had a spontaneous vision of Yao toppling over a boat after being elbowed by a party-hardy Yong Soo (and Kiku getting all flustered and jumping in after him, only to have Jia Long go after them both in a scuba-diving suit! Yay, scuba-diving suits!). _Not_ the best way to participate in a dragon boat race, I'll give 'ya that.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Dragon Boats<em>**

_In which there is a lesson learned that sometimes, the path to glory is one that is walked in circles._

I've always loathed those

Dragon boats

You loved so much.

•

What do you see in them?

All I see is

Wood

To decay with age;

Painted smiles

To last for but a while;

A waste of your space,

And a waste of my time.

•

They're all the same to me.

•

But to _you_?

•

These worthless things

They whisper to you

Words

In a silent language

I can never hope to understand.

And their

Painted smiles

Shone

In a brilliance I am blind to.

•

Maybe that's why I loathe them so.

•

You understand things I

Don't

And never will

For those painted smiles are dull to me.

•

You loved them.

•

To the point where you'd

Beg

At my feet, for me

To watch them, and

You

In them,

Every single year.

•

And I'm too soft to say anything

But yes

Every single time.

•

Even when I

Knew

You'd never win.

•

Every single time.

•

The Occident:

They leave you.

The Orient:

They jeer you.

And I

Will always be there to watch you.

•

Drown,

In the middle of the river

In your blasted dragon boats.

•

Every.

_ •_

Single.

•

TIME.

•

And why not?

These boats

Can only bear the weight of

Things

So ancient; so accursed

With the dust of time,

Like you and I.

•

"Leave it to the youth, Yao",

I'd say

Every single time

You'd come crying back to me,

Like the

Child

That you are

And always will be.

•

Forever a child,

With sunken dreams

Of sunken boats

And a wife, too

Soft

To say anything for so long.

•

"We are old,

And these

Boats

Crave for the blood of the

Youth.

Let our sons take them

To brandish

Like the warriors of our past;

Let our daughter take one

To garnish

With things we cannot now.

•

"For the game of the

Dragon boats,

Is one that welcomes us no more."…

_ •_

_And what happened next?_

_ •_

Orient against Occident,

Father against sons,

_And husband against wife_.

•

You turned a deaf ear

To all I said.

You flipped all I implored of you,

To navigate

Those boats you loved so.

Rapids rushed slower

And your

Dragons

They were faster,

The beating of drums

And the beating of your heart

Synchronized

In a way we can never be.

•

They inscribed your

Very name

Into every flagstone you felled...

•

_And God forbid._

•

Today sees the day,

You finally cross the finish line.

•

And now I can't

Help

But wonder,

Which voice will whisper which

Words

Into that thick head of yours

when you realize.

•

That I am the trophy

You've been fighting for all along.

* * *

><p><strong>"<em>Plumeria hi is a self-proclaimed hopeful writer-in-training renown for uploading the strangest, most bizarre things on her account in fan-fiction . net. Having jumped into the colourful world of poetry as an eighth-grader, when we asked her what true meaning she had in mind behind her works, she simply shrugged and said, "meh - that's for you to decide on your own, I guess." Really, we suspect that even she has no idea herself<em>."**

_**Ah**_**... I can picture it already.**

**The lattermost statement made in the first passage may or may not be true.**

**- Plumeria hi**


	5. Pearls

**_In the hands of those who were wronged,_  
><strong>

**_Freedom_**

**_Is a gift from the Heavens itself._**

**_But in the hands of those who are free,_**

**_Freedom_**

**_Without Heaven's light_**

**_Is in the hands of the wrong._**

**_•_**

**Which basically translates to the fact that I've just _got_ to stop writing so many freeverse poems! I've only done one with rhymes so far, and the rest is just boring, _boring_ freeverse. I'm thinking about exploring more poetic styles in the future; I've had one style in mind for the longest of times, but I can't seem to remember it's name. I've once tried writing one about flies and death to give me a clue, but I couldn't find it anymore. Not to be paranoid and overbearing, but I have the teensy suspicion that the entity of fate must have eaten it.**

**In the meantime, anyone have any suggestions for other poetic styles I can study?**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Pearls<em>**

_In which Yao strays from his preliminary tangent_

There is nothing else to need.

•

Since

You had it all

From the start anyways.

Everything I could ever

Needed

And wanted

Finely encrusted into just

One

Significant someone.

•

Who is you,

My dear Kiku.

My world and

Everything in it

Just a strait of ocean away from

My needy arms.

•

And thus

I now hate myself

To the ninth layer of heaven and

Back.

For my needy arms are still

Devoid

Of a gift for our anniversary.

•

Just a mockery of a

Month

Away.

•

The morning is pleasant,

The maples

A brilliant red

In the thoughtful autumn sky.

•

You are at the porch,

Admiring the

Children at play,

When I smuggled myself beside you.

•

And ask

Without regarding your

Tender features.

•

"Kiku, my dear.

Our anniversary is just a

Fleeting month away."

•

Your wind chimes

Giggled overhead, to

Merge

With your soft laugh.

•

"To think that I would ever forget

Such an important occasion.

You know I won't, and

Therefore,

What I know

Is that you opt to inquire",

You read me

As deftly as ever.

•

Yong Soo's bellow

Stray us for a mere second,

Before I ramble on.

•

"You know?"

•

"My dearest Yao,

Once I was your pupil,

Your friend,

Your lover,

And now, your wife.

You are a map to me now.

•

"So what

Of this question of yours?"

•

I pause for a moment,

Contemplating, as

The frigid autumn breeze

Sliced

Into my thin shirt.

Yi Ling is bawling,

But it's white noise to me.

•

"The question,

Is what you'd like for our anniversary."

•

You start,

Before a gentle fog

Descends over the chocolate of your

Beautiful eyes.

•

"Let me see…"

You beam,

Knowing

That I was hanging onto every word

You said,

"I would like…

•

"Something strong.

Something

That dazzles with light

But with a lambent luminescence

That does not blind.

Something smooth

To the touch,

Well-rounded,

And rare.

•

"But most importantly,

I'd like

Very much, for this

'Something'

To come from the Sea,

My home."

•

Baby Jia Long's sobs

Relinquish our idle chatter,

For that morning.

•

But that night,

As I lay

Sleepless

Under our covers,

The bud of an idea

Spurs

Where my arms were once empty.

* * *

><p><em>Pearls<em>.

•

Soft and lambent.

Sultry as silk.

Round and rare.

And of your home

The Sea.

•

The mother of pearl

Fits the riddles of your story

Like a flower to a bee.

•

And so, I

Resolved

The very next morning

That one shall be yours,

The day of our anniversary.

•

I stalled no seconds more.

•

With your fine complexion

Lingering

At the back of my mind,

I hopped the next junk,

In an expedition of the World,

To find the

Best

Mother of pearl

To instill upon your dainty fingers.

•

For days and nights,

I road the crests of the Ocean,

And sifted through strange,

Foreign soil,

If just to find a pearl

Worthy

Of meeting your beautiful eyes.

•

Strange, foreign peddlers

Flocked to the harbours

Of their mystifying land

Like moths to a candle,

As they see

The magnificent Middle Kingdom

And his titan of a junk

Cruising the

Waters

Towards their shores.

•

Brilliant amethysts.

Livid diamonds.

Ornaments of finest jade.

And gold.

Hundreds and thousands of gold,

That would cram even the imperial treasury chambers.

•

All these riches

Were deliberately shoved

Under my nose, by

These ignorant peddlers.

•

"Come, sir,

and feast your eyes on these fine jewels!

Amethysts, red and

Brilliant,

Do you see!"

"No, these

Diamonds

Are much better! Come,

Good sir,

And behold their chiseled edges – "

"Not so!

But these ornaments of

Finest jade,

Crafted by talent, to have acquired

Such an exotic shape."

"Or gold, sir!

Do, I implore of you, have some!

We have many, so feel

Free

To purchase as much as you can!"

•

"No, _no_, _NO_!"

I'd cry,

"Do you all not understand?

These amethysts are

Far too bright

That they will blind my beloved's eyes!

These diamonds

With their chiseled edges

Will slice his delicate fingers.

These ornaments are

But

Silly shapes,

With no purpose at all.

•

"_And all this gold_!

It will not do

To present something so

Common

To the man I hold before all else

•

"And nothing in your

Hands

Are gifts from the Sea itself!"

•

"All that will do, is a

Mother of pearl,

The softest, rarest of all gems,

For a specimen as fine

As my dear Kiku",

I wail,

Flocking back to the junk,

With a pair of

Empty arms,

And a sullen,

Aching heart,

"treasure which you men

cannot grant me today."

* * *

><p>The Ocean is calm,<p>

An entity of tranquility,

In the crisp autumn morning of our anniversary.

•

And yet a

Roaring tempest

Wracked the chasms of my head,

As the junk made its silent retreat

Home

To the crestfallen Middle Kingdom.

•

And the deeper parts of me,

Unperturbed

By this haunting tempest.

•

_Felt bitterly empty._

•

As the junk drew into the harbour;

As I skulked off the vessel,

Feeling empty, empty,

_Empty_.

•

As a blur of

Raven fringe

And thick autumn kimono

Tackled me to the hard floor of the promenade.

•

_My dear Kiku_!

•

Tears welled your eyes

As your

Dainty fingers

Flew around my neck.

•

And nearby,

Cheeky Yong Soo and Yi Ling,

Tittered behind coat-sleeves.

•

"I didn't know

Mommy knew how to cry too",

Baby Jia Long's

Eyes

Are wide with awe.

•

"Yao, where did you go!"

You sob,

"What were you doing!

Why say nothing of it to me!"

•

"Because", I sigh,

sitting up,

And evading your eyes,

For my empty arms brought me endless shame,

"I was out

looking or a present, for you

On our anniversary.

Something sultry as silk.

Round and rare.

From your home,

The sea.

But there were no pearls."

•

You squint at me,

As if you've never spoken Chinese before.

"Pearls?

But Yao,

Who said anything

About pearls?'

•

"It was everything you wanted.

It was perfec – !"

•

_SLAP! _

_ •_

Words we've warned her

Never to repeat

Erupts

From Yi Ling's mouth.

•

"Fool!"

You snapped,

"sweet, stupid, _stupid _fool!

For what would I

Ever need

Pearls,

If I already have…

•

"_You_?"

•

You release me, to

Kneel

By my side,

The ghost of a coy smile

On your sweet lips.

•

I cross my legs,

Too dazed,

Too confused,

To say anything but;

•

"I don't think I quite understand."

ª

"Then you are more of a fool

Then I'd deemed you to be",

You tut,

"Just look at yourself.

You've travelled worlds over,

Made me

And the children

Worried sick,

If just to pursue an answer to my riddle

That is incorrect in all the senses.

•

"You are a fool

Yao

To see not of your strength,

Nor the dazzling

Brilliance

That spurred my nation

As nothing but your pupil.

•

"A fool

To never feel

Your tender person,

Carved smooth and

Well-rounded

Bu that heart which swells with pride.

A rare combination

To come by.

•

"But most importantly,

You are a

Fool

To have forgotten…"

•

"That I am just a

Strait of ocean away from

Your islands",

I gasp.

•

"_And_",

You help me up,

"that you

are my home now.

A gem in the Sea,

To the

Isolated, regressive eyes

Of one truly stuck in the Sea.

•

"There is nothing else to need

But your arms

Around me

On our anniversary day",

You beam,

Eyes catching the

Brilliance

Of the autumn leaves

That lie scattered at our toes

As we crossed back to the children.

•

"But now,

I will need to punish

You

For slipping away

And saying nothing of it to me."

•

And _I_,

My dear Kiku,

Will need an excuse

To start cramming the imperial treasury chamber

With all this

Gold

I brought home from the expedition.

* * *

><p><strong> <em>The summary for this poem implies two meanings. One was an aspect I had bore in mind all along. The other came to this poem as a surprise conclusion. I like one meaning more than the other.<em>**

_**Find out which one I had in mind, and which one I liked best, if my favourite colour is chartreuse.**_

**... And _that_, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why my mathematics teachers makes the questions, and not me. On a completely irrelevant note****, I do like maths. Very, very much.**

**-Plumeria-hi**

**P.S. Don't bother trying to find the answer to my random mumbo-jumbo, it's not related to the colour chartreuse in any way, ha-hah!... _Heh_.**


	6. Permanent Traces

**Salutations, brothers far and wide, sisters near and here; as I have promised in the last update, I'm present today with all sorts of new things!**

**After thinking about it the other week, I've spent the length of this one talking to a couple of people and skimming through a couple of sources, and today I've decided to go along with two new styles! The first is a little something called '****_acoustic poetry_****'. It's supposed to be this poetry format where all the phrases are arranged in an objective stance, so that you get a mystery word or phrase spelled out when you read the first letter from each phrase vertically, from first to last. **

**The second poetry style will be known some time today or tomorrow once I've finished typing it up from my notebook.**

**In the meantime... CHUNI! *fanfare***

* * *

><p><strong>Permanent Traces<strong>

_In which a scathing lover, too, never forgets_.

I've tried too many times.

•

Camouflaged feelings pose no concern towards the

Animosities of our near past, and as

Night draws near, I am in a trance;

Tumbling to dreams of you.

•

Fragrant flowers must scatter,

Oceans are constantly a-move, and yet,

Run I cannot, from your face

Glistening in my mind's eye;

Everything we've shared is permanent,

Traced deeply into the chambers of my being.

•

Yao. Pray tell, why,

Of all the world, must it be you, who is

Unforgettable to my wistful heart?

* * *

><p><strong>Indeed, Kiku. It is impossible to forget a potentially-alzheimers-inflicted-4000-year-old-lover with a bad habit of leaving his slippers lying around the house. In the case of my mother, the latter case is even more of an excuse to <em>never<em> forget you; your face becomes permanently engraved into her list of people to yell at when a flowerpot is shifted an inch to the left of the staircase.**

**Of course, it's not like _I__'ve _ever landed myself in such a list.**

**..._ I hope_._  
><em>**

**-Plumeria hi, who has a guilty pleasure of shifting flowerpots so that fake flower-heads can get a taste of sunshine too**


	7. Seasonal Buds

**Seasonal Buds**

_In which the buds of love remains in bloom the year round._

The snow falls, and yet

The peonies in my garden

Insists it is spring.

* * *

><p>The seasons have changed,<p>

But my chrysanth refuses

To blossom for me.

* * *

><p>The seasons, they spin<p>

But the buds of love remain

In bloom the year round.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Seeee? <strong>_**Now when have I ever lied to you? *grin***

***Ahem* - back to the subject! The second form of poetry I attempted this week was a 'haiku', from good ol' Nihon himself! It's a three-liner, with five syllables in the first and last line, as well as seven syllables in the middle line. Sure - the haiku calls for more frequent updates, if you consider that a boon on its own, but what actually got me ****_really _****intrigued at the start was the fact that traditionally, the haiku was supposed to be used to evoke natural themes, more commonly the seasons. In fact, the best wielders of this form of poetry could even evoke full scenarios in just these seventeen syllables!(I do recall ever reading about one monk who was exceptionally apt in such arts; unfortunately, his name has slipped my mind) As I discovered that, I can't help but think about just how much this style suits Kiku, who's been rambling on and on about 'the four seasons' in pretty much most of the soundtracks I've heard from him. **

**Ah, yes; the four seasons is an exceptionally heartwarming topic indeed. Here in Indonesia, we only have two seasons, and I like that too... Except for the fact that the schedule is all chaotic now, and I can't really hope to anticipate the rainy season on my birthday anymore. Y'know - climate change and that ish.**

**- Plumeria hi**


	8. Yao

**Yao**

_In which nobody understands Kiku_.

One morning,

Mother wasn't there

To greet us in the kitchen.

•

He'd fallen ill,

I soon learned,

When I peered into my parents' room

And see him lying in bed.

Pallid.

Shivering.

•

That noon,

When I came to bring him lunch,

He sat up, painfully,

And beckoned me closer.

•

"My dear child",

he croaked,

"May you be so kind as to fetch Yao for me?"

•

I stopped in my tracks,

Unsure of what to say

To my sickness-stricken mother.

•

"Father is away, mother",

I murmured.

"He went to the capital this morning,

do you not remember?"

•

Mother only smiled,

And told me.

"You do not understand, child."

•

"Then I will bring my sister,

who has spoken Chinese

For far longer than I have,

And may understand you",

I requested.

•

Mother nodded his head.

•

A few minutes later,

I return

With my sister tailing behind me:

My sister,

With her bubbly chestnut locks

And her firecracker smile.

•

Again,

My mother croaked:

"My dearest daughter.

You have spoken Chinese

For far longer than us.

•

"May you be so kind as to fetch Yao for me?"

•

Sister's firecracker smile

Dissolved beneath her chestnut locks.

•

"Father is away, mother",

She chirped.

"He took a junk to Beijing,

And will not be back until the eve.

He spoke of this to you,

Do you not remember?"

•

Mother frowned,

And told her.

"You do not understand, child."

•

"Then we shall return with our eldest brother,

Who is a scatterbrain,

But not unintelligent,

And may understand you",

She requested.

•

Mother nodded his head,

And sank back into bed.

•

An hour later,

We managed to find our brother

Hovering in the bustling marketplace downtown,

And haul him before my mother:

My brother,

With his funny bed-hair

And his foolhardy face.

•

For a third time,

Mother croaked:

"My dearest son.

You are a funny thing,

But you are also clever.

•

"May you be so kind as to fetch Yao for me?"

•

My brother's funny bed-hair

Mirrors the baffled look

On his foolhardy face.

•

"Father is away, mother",

He crowed.

"He took a junk to Beijing

To tend to political business.

Your fever must be making you delusional, for

Do you not remember?"

•

Mother sighed,

And with a shake of his head,

Told him.

"You do not understand, child."

•

"Then I shall call upon uncle,

who is more intelligent than I,

And may understand your delusional puzzles!"

He requested.

•

"Very well then",

Mother exhaled.

•

Two hours later,

Uncle arrived by junk,

And had joined us in my parents' quarters:

My uncle,

With his intelligent gaze,

And rimmed glasses.

•

For a fourth time,

Mother croaked:

"Brother-in-law,

You are brilliant,

So you are sure to understand me this time.

•

"May you be so kind as to fetch Yao for me?"

•

Uncle's intelligent gaze

Was wide with uncertainty

Behind the polished rims of his glasses.

•

"Yao is away, brother-in-law",

He explained.

"I imagine he is in Beijing,

Tending to the coronation of his

Child emperor,

Which shall take place soon.

The gazette has spoken of it frequently,

So how is it

Do you not remember?"

•

Mother, and his

Shivering, pallid face,

Looked to uncle.

Looked to my brother.

Looked to my sister.

•

Looked to me.

•

And cried.

"_You do not understand!_

_Nobody understands!_

Please,

Leave me be for the rest of the day."

•

And so we did.

•

But later that night,

As we were

Arguing

About who would bring mother dinner,

He limped into the kitchen

Out of his own accord

And retrieved a serum of medicine.

* * *

><p><strong>As I think that it's only fair that I slip in a tiny clue for the meaning behind this one this time...<strong>

**耀 = Yào = Yao**

**药 **= Yào = Medicine****

****There's a second hidden meaning behind this too, I realized after re-reading my poem, but I'll leave that last one to your imagination, otay~?****

****-Plumeria-hi, who is too exhausted from school assignments to bother trying to be witty tonight****


	9. Knight in Red

_**Knight in Red**_

_In which Kiku procrastinates for another day._

I'm hopelessly in love with thee

The kind and gentle soul of you

Oh Knight in Red that's sent to me.

•

He's smiling as I look to see

A man of soul and pure virtue.

I'm hopelessly in love with thee.

•

But as he comes, the scene I flee,

I love you but I'm frightened too,

Oh Knight in Red that's sent to me.

•

I hear your footsteps follow me,

You screaming to the sky so blue:

"I'm hopelessly in love with thee!"

•

Your words send my heart soaring free

But I don't dare to drop a clue

Oh Knight in Red that's sent to me.

•

But I will try again, you'll see!

Perhaps in just a day or two.

I'm hopelessly in love with thee

Oh Knight in Red that's sent to me.

* * *

><p><strong>BOOMBADAH...! Didn't expect me to show up late by a day and still have the nerve to act all holistic-like, LIKE!<strong>

**... Uh, ****_yeah_****.**

**Aaanyways, forgive and forget, 's what I always say! (No I don't, but let's pretend I've never posted this line in the first place. That's why this is, like, caged up in a parenthesis and ish). The reason I was late the other week ****was... Well - because school was in cahoots with the entity of fate and being a downright arse... AND**** was because I was attempting a new form of poetry, yay! Ergo, the sort I've just posted today! By some mere coincidence, it was also the same one my friend and I had attempted to work on together a long time ago, which - I shan't lie - made me very happy, to be writing something that means so significantly to our past.**

**This new form of poetry is an Italian one called the 'villanelle', and it's a super fun combo of rhyming verses, with the structure as follows:**

**Phrase A**

**Phrase B with rhyme b**

**Phrase C**

**•**

**Phrase X with rhyme A and C**

**Phrase X with rhyme b**

**Phrase A**

**•**

**Phrase X with rhyme A and C**

**Phrase X with rhyme b**

**Phrase C**

**•**

**Repeat verses 2 and 3 until you get 6 of them in total! This has been a lot of fun, so I'm definitely going to try something like this again someday. While on a side note...**

**Plumeria, Plumeria, Plumeria; you prattling on with your fancy 'shan't's and Knightly chatter, when I honestly suspect that Kiku's always doing this procrastinating thing on a daily basis.**

**-Plumeria-hi, whom you shan't blame for adopting soppy head cannons**


	10. Porcelain Masquerade

**_Porcelain Masquerade_**

_If love was a pandemic, we'd all be dead_.

Like a porcelain shard,

You pierced your way into my heart

And made me your own.

•

I am china,

Stranded

In a Porcelain Masquerade.

Milky-white mirages, embellished

With midnight's contours,

Spinning, spinning, spinning around me.

I am an alien,

Lost

In the dancing of the twilight.

•

_Until my eyes meet yours._

•

You are indifferent.

Milky-white.

Midnight contours.

A spinning porcelain doll on the ceramic tiles.

•

But you have that shine to you,

That which lacquered your fine details

And unraveled a Ladder of Stars.

•

That which enticed me,

Pulling us together

Like magnets; like the bird to the bee.

•

_Like the matching pieces of a porcelain cup_.

You are china too.

•

_And you will be mine_.

•

Chink!

•

You spun on your heels, to

Vanish into the throng of dancers.

The race had officially begun.

•

Chink!

Tink!

Thunk!

_ •_

Where are you now?

You're a spinning mirage.

Milky-white confusion.

Midnight contours,

Spinning, _spinning_, _SPINNING_.

You're here one moment

And gone the next.

•

I only had the Ladder of Stars

To guide me to your mask.

•

_Chink!_

_Tink!_

_Thunk!_

_ •_

I've shattered a hundred masks;

Exposed a million

Porcelain faces,

But you are not behind any mask.

And not a single

Porcelain face

Bears the fine features you bear.

•

_CHINK!_

_TINK!_

_THUNK!_

_• _

The last mask is shattered.

The last face chipped and destroyed

Under the merciless whip

Of the Ladder of Stars.

•

And there you are,

At the centre of the ceramic tiles.

•

And I smile,

And said:

•

"I've been looking all over for you."

•

And you smiled tenderly

And uttered the words

To pierce your way into my heart,

And make me yours.

•

"How are you so sure?"

•

And you ripped off your mask,

To disperse

Atop the ceramic tiles

Of the Porcelain Masquerade.

•

The Kiku I needed

Had shattered

A long time ago

Under the merciless whip of the Ladder of Stars.

* * *

><p><strong>Socialites and fellow reality vagabonds alike, this is <em>exactly <em>what happens when a fan fiction writer has too much time to spend doing nothing in a school athletics' carnival.**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	11. Sodium chloride

**WARNING: First T-rated poem in, like, FOREVER!... So please don't hesitate to take cover if you wish to do so. The table is right around the corner.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Sodium Chloride<em>**

_Chemistry is important, kids. Learn it 'till you earn it._

_Nothing coming out of his lips_

_Makes sense to me at all._

_ •_

_I love him_

_In every way possible._

_I love his eyes._

_His smile._

_His grace._

_(His thighs)._

_His voice which makes me go fluttery inside._

_ •_

_But I hate, more than anything_

_When his voice which makes me go fluttery inside_

_Starts spluttering incomprehensibility._

_ •_

_Chemistry._

•

And God bless

How he's good at it.

•

I crumple atop the desk with a groan.

He eyes me,

Frowning.

•

"Does any of this",

he gestures to the textbook between us.

"make any sense to you?"

•

I shake my head miserably.

•

"Might as well call it a fail",

I sighed.

•

"No."

•

He's moved beside me now,

With that damned textbook

Clasped

In a dainty hand.

•

"I'm helping you ace that test

And I'm not stopping

Until we get there."

He's dead serious.

•

I shrug plainly.

•

"If you see fit to do so,

Then I'm not stopping you."

•

He nods

And starts to speak again.

•

"Regarding ionic bonding."

•

I perked up at his last word.

•

"It occurs when polar opposites,

A positive and negative ion;

A cation and an anion,

Merges together to form anew."

•

"And how is this…

_Bonding_, acquired?"

I murmur.

•

"Funny you should ask",

His eyes dimmed in amusement,

"It starts because

The polar opposites both need.

•

"Take, for instance,

Sodium chloride.

Sodium is aching to give."

•

"And chlorine?"

•

"Would like to receive",

He quipped.

"They need each other,

And so,

Sodium gives to chloride,

Attracting chloride to form…"

•

"Sodium chloride",

I gasp,

Then grin as I say:

"a compound.

An ionic bond."

•

"Clever boy",

He beams.

•

I nod slowly,

Absorbing this lesson

The only way I knew how.

•

"… Mind if I repeat it to you,

Kiku?"

•

He shakes his head.

The lustrous black locks

That which adorns his crown

Falls neatly to cup his face.

•

"So the sodium and chloride,

They need each other,

Don't they?"

•

"They do."

•

"For the sodium

Aches to give,

And the chloride

Yearns to receive."

•

"I couldn't have put it better myself."

•

"They meet and

They realize

They need each other.

So they attract.

•

"And form sodium chloride.

Ionic bonding.

•

"_Chemistry_",

I smile.

•

He clasps his hands together in mirth.

•

"You are ready",

He declares.

•

"Oh,

And Kiku?"

•

"Yes, Yao?"

•

"There's just one more thing."

•

Before he can protest,

I run a hand

Over his thighs.

•

"Why don't we make sodium chloride tonight?"

* * *

><p><strong>... What? Don't laugh at me; I survived my first chemistry class of the year with this poem!<strong>

**On a side note, here in formal Indonesian, 'compound' can be translated as 'senyawa', which, aside from meaning 'compound', can also be tossed back into English as 'one soul'... Or, at least something along that line. It's a pretty messy translation, since in the Indonesian language, 'se-' before a noun denotes that it is shared by multiple subjects; for instance, 'saya kini setingkat dengan sepupuku' means 'I am now at the same level as my cousin' (wouldn't imagine how anyone would be using that example in everyday conversation though). That means if I'm ever fortunate enough to have Yao and Kiku say "kita senyawa", it would mean something like "we are of one soul", heehee~! ... _Aaanyways_, me knowing that sort of made the whole 'sodium chloride' theme much more fun to work with.  
><strong>

**-Plumeria-hi**


	12. Maiden Blue (Knight in Red sequel)

**Another villanelle with my own little gist (which can be found at the end of the poem *down there; down there*)! This one's a sequel to 'Knight in Red'. Why? Because I can!... _And _because I can't find any inspiration for a villanelle other than this at the moment.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Maiden Blue<em>**

_Pray tell; what _is _a man in love to do?_

My long-coveted Maiden Blue

I wonder how you cannot see

My heart lusts for no one but you.

•

For knighthood be my sole virtue

I was dispatched to protect thee

My long-coveted Maiden Blue.

•

My eyes meet yours that's soft as dew.

I realized with mirthful glee

My heart lusts for no one but you.

•

But then you leave my soul to rue,

For as I start you turn to flee

My long-coveted Maiden Blue.

•

What is a man in love to do?

Pray tell, are you afraid of me?

My heart lusts for no one but you.

•

Though love may be a tough venue

It'll never bring me to my knees.

My long-coveted Maiden Blue,

My heart lusts for no one but you.

•

_So let this futile race ensue_.

* * *

><p><strong>On a side note, if I had a thousand rupiah for each time my brain successfully convinced me it was Friday this week... Well, then I'd probably be the first rupiah-millionaire with only thousand-rupiah notes in my pile o' cash.<strong> **But the ones that come in coins would be pretty awesome too, since they'd probably fit my purse better anyway...**

**Aaand there you have it; my author-note-creating days have officially came to a sardonic end.**

**- Plumeria-hi**

**p.s. on yet another side note, long story short: was watching this really old film from my childhood, and realized for the first time since 2008 that an artist (also from my childhood, whose name I only accidentally uncovered this year) made a track out of it. Scoured the Internet for an hour looking for said track... And BAM. One of the best (and probably accidental) Yao cosplay I've ever seen... Well- the first Yao cosplay I've ever seen, actually, but I invite you to check that album cover out for yourself if you're looking to be blown off your chair tonight. _If _you can guess which movie it's from, that is.**


	13. Like a Moth to the Flame

**_Like a Moth to the Flame_**

_If moths ever loved, they'd only love for a night._

You'd never let a life to waste.

Be it a man,

Nor a child.

•

Nor the moths which frolic the night

And every one of our lights.

•

"Leave them be, Kiku.

I need my sleep, just as much as

You

Need yours", I grumbled.

•

You shook your head,

And brushed another moth from our lantern.

"You know; I'm not stopping you from sleeping without me."

"You're not. I just can't sleep without you."

"That's not my problem."

"No, it's the moths'."

"That's not their problem either."

•

I groaned for

The umpteenth time that night

And the millionth time in forever.

•

"What do you

See

In them that's worth saving, Kiku?"

•

You started,

Seeming as if you

Didn't know the answer either.

•

"They…

Deserve a chance,

I suppose."

•

"And that's because…?"

•

"They just do, Yao."

•

"They're ugly and useless."

•

"But they are spectacular

In the light of our lantern."

•

"They'll burn in the light of our lantern as well."

•

"Which is why we can't let them

Approach the flames unguarded",

You insist,

Ushering another away.

•

I barely dodged it

As if wafted

Lazily

Past my nose.

•

"But what if they want to burn anyway?"

I frowned.

You looked to me as if I was

A lunatic.

Or,

At least a man with no hope.

•

"That's silly, Yao.

They wouldn't approach our lantern

If they did not

Want to be beautiful in our eyes,

Or grow –"

•

"_That's just it!_"

I snapped,

"Kiku, cease the lunacy!

Moths don't approach to be beautiful,

Much less grow!

•

"Kiku…

Do you know why they approach our lantern?"

•

You answered with silence,

Your face

A mask of innocent distress,

If only the lantern would shine on you

And not the moth which was approaching.

•

"Moths live only for one night.

They choose our

Lantern

Because it is the best place

For a spectacular death;

For in the kingdom of the moths,

Death by flame

Is the most honourable death of all.

•

"Kiku, can you not see!

Moths don't live for beauty

Nor for growth.

•

"_Moths live to_ _DIE!_"

•

The moth approaching our lantern, wafts

Lifelessly

To the floor

In cinders and ashes.

•

Years later,

The night you left my arms for good,

The moths littered my floorboards.

•

Cinders and ashes,

With no hope to go on.

* * *

><p><strong>"You don't go thwacking the moths with your sandals, Ellen. You feel sorry and pray for them, because they only get the chance to celebrate as grown-ups for a night before they die." When my parents had first told me this as a little girl, I was immediately mesmerized by the swarm of gossamer wings which frolicked the streetlamp outside of my bedroom window. It'd never occurred to me how poetic such little things could be; how such trivial insects could symbolize such a profound lesson in life.<strong>

**Nonetheless, the moth, hand-in-hand with the butterfly, would later go on to become one of the national symbols of the kingdom of Plumeria._  
><em>**

**I also learned a couple of years then that the 'laron' my parents had been referring to was not the cute little fuzzy's on wings which had translated to 'moths', but the termites on wings which, at one point, had threatened to eat the furniture of the house and was constantly falling on my head whenever I least expected them to. I'd felt cheated then; all the rainy seasons I could have spent thwacking them in had gone to waste!**

**Oh well; another national symbol for me. **

**-Plumeria-hi**


	14. Monochromatic Amalgamation

**A while back, an unnamed someone had proposed the idea of a "writer's insert". I thought this was a great idea, so I decided to fetch the nearest poet I know...**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Monochromatic Amalgamation<em>**

_Written by Pochi_

_Translated from Dog by Plumeria-hi_

I was curled on the ash cushions

When the

New Master

Arrived home.

Stylish as ever

In a dark-grey _chen shan_.

The scent of snow lingers around his presence…

He's returned from a meeting in Russia.

•

"I'm home!"

He calls into the house,

Giving me a brief pat before going on his way.

•

I decide to follow him.

•

The chrome _tatami_ feels soft as I pad

To the back-porch

Where Master is awaiting under the map of stars.

He grins as he sees me,

And motions for me to climb into his lap.

I walk away.

•

My master has other company in mind.

His light-grey robes

Is fragranced in something sweet.

•

My hunch tells me it is love.

•

The New Master is swathed in the same aroma.

•

The New Master arrives

And envelops Master into his arms.

•

They will stay that way for the rest of the night.

Dark-grey

And light-grey, amalgamated

In perfect harmony.

•

It smells beautiful.

* * *

><p><strong>Next time, I might even make Mr. Kappa, Mr. Dragon and Shinatty-<em>san <em>do one. And of course, I can't forget Tama, and Panda, and...**

**I think I got the idea of a "writer's insert" all wrong.**

**-Plumeria-hi **


	15. Two Inches Taller

_**Plumeria's eyes bulged in their sockets as she caught a glimpse of the last time she'd uploaded her poetry collection. October, the numbers seemed to jeer. She had abandoned her collection since October, and now it was well into November!  
>She sighed, and silently made a pledge: in no way would she ever forget the things that mean the most to her ever again. In no way would she ever forget Wang Yao and Honda Kiku; the fictional characters who'd breathed life into her when her own looked to be at the stage of dissipating into nothing.<strong>_

_**And in no way would she ever abandon her temporary purpose of existence ever again: that is, to spread the good and poetic name of Sino-Japan.**_

**Ladies and gentries, Plumeria-hi has returned. Boo-yeah.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Two Inches Taller<em>**

_A good couple grows tall together._

My Kiku was

Small as is perfect.

Dainty and slight,

We looked the picture together.

I surpass him by

Four centimetres.

•

I ought to.

After all, it would be

Peculiar,

Him exceeding me,

When I'm the one to shield him from harm.

•

One day,

However,

He came to me different.

•

I died a few seconds

When I'd

Opened the door

And saw him.

•

_Towering above me_

_By two inches_.

•

"Yao?

You look as if you've

Seen

A ghost."

•

"If he's hoisting you up,

Maybe there's some

Truth

In that statement."

•

Kiku's brow creased,

Before a shadow of knowing

Skirted his eyes.

•

"I think I understand what you mean."

•

"You had another growth spurt."

•

He shook his head with a laugh,

And hitched his robes up to

Reveal

A pair of platform clogs.

•

"My _geta_", he explained,

"it is a must for the rainy season."

•

I nodded,

Pretending to understand.

•

He shook his parasol dry,

Returned my smile and

Allowed me to lead him inside.

•

My Kiku.

My small, perfect Kiku;

Two inches taller than me?

•

I will not stand for it!

•

Perhaps it was

The sense of inferiority which scorned me,

Being the knight that was

Two inches

Shorter

Than his damsel-to-be.

•

Clutching his parasol,

We went to the wet markets.

•

As Kiku was sifting through a selection of bean-curd,

The tittering of the vendors

Pierced my ears.

•

They must think us silly.

They must think me queer;

Embarrassing;

An Ant proposed his love to a mighty Doe.

•

But I grinned and bore it.

•

Bore through the limp home,

When Kiku walked beside me

Two inches taller.

•

And I hope

The midsummer showers will deport soon,

To usher in autumn.

To usher in a time when Kiku

Will no longer have to

Wear those wretched _geta_

And

Surpass me by

Two inches.

•

But little did I know.

•

The next day…

IT RAINED AGAIN!

•

Curse the pastel-coloured heavens!

Kiku had volunteered to assist me

On national obligations to a

Senior centre

That very day.

•

"You know, Kiku",

I said that morning,

"you don't have to tag along if you want."

•

"Eh?

And why this sudden change of nature?"

•

"It's raining.

It's damp and slick

And I don't want you catching a cold."

•

Kiku brushed me away.

"I'll be fine", he insisted,

"it takes more than a little rain

To down a nation

As old as me."

•

So he swaddled himself in a shawl,

Slipped on his _geta_

And trailed off ahead of me.

•

At the centre,

The honourable elders simpered me

With their toothless chortles.

•

They must think we are unusual.

Your thread is tangled and not in the will of God;

They think we're ancients in the wrong time and place.

•

One grandmother who had

Warmed up to Kiku,

Had asked him

If he was the older husband.

Kiku had told me this with a laugh.

•

I nodded complacently,

But inside the shame was impaling.

•

_So I decided to take action that very night_.

•

Heaven spittoon me in showers again the next day.

I didn't care.

I was sipping soup in the dining room when…

"Yao? Yao!"

•

"Coming!" I answered.

•

When I got to the verandah,

Kiku

Was frowning over the shoe rack.

His _geta _had mysteriously vanished overnight.

•

"Do you know where they are?"

He asked me.

I shrugged,

But said he could borrow my old military boots.

•

We arrived at the

Senior centre,

With Kiku

Four centimetres below me once more,

And sodden socks

I'd protested loudly against.

Makes me wish I could whip out his _geta_,

And bestow it upon his feet.

•

But of course,

It wasn't like I knew where they were.

•

All was silent and well with the honourable elders today.

We were respectable;

Ancient missionaries.

Our thread survived the tangle

And stretched long and clear,

A palpable bridge.

•

The grandmother Kiku had made a

Trusted acquaintance,

Was told Kiku's husband surpassed him by

Two thousand years.

She scanned me, then

Politely nodded.

She said it wasn't hard to see now.

•

All went well

Until Kiku found his _geta_,

Hiding in a sack at the pantry.

•

A drafty morning later,

I was greeted by a surprise

Awaiting on the verandah.

•

A second pair of _geta_

That smelled pleasantly of ointment

And the antiquity of wood.

•

"It's a must for the rainy season."

Heart lurching,

I whipped around to see Kiku

Hovering by the doorway,

A mixture of tenderness and

Satisfaction

In his funny little smile.

•

"Why did you get them?"

I wanted to know.

•

"Because you were unhappy",

He said.

•

"Against what rubric, exactly?"

•

"You were glum the whole week,

AND

You smuggled my _geta_."

•

I blushed.

His smile widened.

•

"But it wasn't until you developed

Thieving tendencies",

He chuckled,

"That I knew

Action

Must be done swiftly.

So I asked for advice from the

Grandmother

I had befriended at the centre."

•

"And what did she say?"

•

"She said",

His expression softened,

"That you were

Upset

Because you were left behind."

•

My eyes widened.

•

"I excelled you by

Two inches.

But two inches alone

Was enough to desert you.

I had grown taller when you didn't.

And that made you feel

•

"Inferior to me.

Like I'd challenged your shield of wood

By betraying you with a

Mallet of fire;

Consuming your shield

And leaving the rest of the world to

Scorn

Your name.

•

"because I grew taller by

Two inches

When you didn't."

•

I blinked,

Unsure of what to say.

Kiku came and stood beside me.

The plank I was standing on

Was concaved

By four centimetres.

We were one and the same.

•

"So I asked her:

_Oba-san_.

What am I to do

To refrain my husband

From thinking of such things?

And she smiled, and

said:

•

"Grow tall together

Like all good couples should."

•

"She was one of my people;

Migrated to China

With her love to give,

And two pairs of _geta_

To present to her husband-to-be.

He's gone now,

So she gave this to me.

•

"And now,

We give this to you."

•

That morning,

We clutched the parasol, and

Walked through

A drizzle,

Two inches taller

Together,

Like all good couples should.

* * *

><p><strong>The <em>geta <em>is a pair of traditional Japanese clogs. The type of _geta_ described here is the ones with two wooden "teeth" underneath that serves as platforms, hoisting the socks above marshy grounds during the rainy season.  
><strong>

**Sharing a parasol is a romantic ****symbol in pop Japanese culture.**

**And Yao is seriously 4 centimeters taller than Kiku. **

**And... On a side note, I don't think there are any rainy-day _geta_ out there tall enough to give Kiku a two-inch boost though, so that might be a little hard getting a picture of. Unless he's wearing the _geta_ that hostesses wear. In that case, we can start talking about putting him in some elaborate hostress _kimono_ of some sort for a future poem, da?**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	16. I Hate You

**_I Hate You_**

_But what does hate denote exactly?_

You'd now best listen well,

For all I say is true;

I hate you plenty Kiku

Yes I really, really do!

•

I never thought I ever could

A thousand years ago,

When you were all I want

And I was all you'd ever know.

•

So why'd you have to steal my heart

And leave me far behind,

And carve a scar to last a while

Into my very spine?

•

_When years ago you promised that you'd forever be mine_.

•

So don't you run and cry to me

Because I told you so:

I hate you more than ever now

And I want you to know!

•

I hate the way you look at me

And hold me captive to,

Your eyes; your lips; your begging face,

The pretty likes of you.

•

And I'll just be the bumbling fool

Who walked into that wall.

If you can't be no less of you

Don't stare at me at all!

•

_'Cause__ when you do you make me feel so very. VERY small._

_• _

B-but don't you change the subject!

My words today still stand.

I hate you plenty Kiku

That you'd better understand!

•

I hate the way you smile at me

And say, "good morning, Yao.

I hope you're well and healthy",

You'd follow with a bow.

•

And I'll just be the bumbling fool

Who'll stutter-splutter back.

But in my heart, I cannot help

But feel that you've attacked.

•

_With forces even stronger than the ones that'd nicked my back_.

•

And wait until you hear this one!

(Repent it when you do).

I hate, hate, HATE the fact that

All I think about is YOU.

•

The image of your curves and kinks,

They haunt me every night.

There's so much lust it's not a joke

But bitter, BITTER spite.

•

_Because those thoughts are all that's left for me after the fight_.

•

You dedicated love to me

Then stomped me to the ground.

You painted me a world of joy

Then flipped it upside down.

•

What did I ever do to you?

What did I ever say?

To prompt you to abandon me;

To leave me now this way.

•

Confused to every feeling.

A servant to my yearning.

And shackled to a living,

Of mourning; groaning; pining.

•

Because of what you did to me

I'm nothing but a nation,

Whose little more than loathing husk;

Servile abomination.

•

A bumbling fool just waiting for the day of dissipation.

•

And for that…

I HATE you.

•

So you'd best listen well,

For all I say is true;

I HATE you plenty Kiku

Yes I really, really do!

•

So don't you run and cry to me

Because I told you so:

I HATE you more than ever now

And I want you to know!

•

And to this day and onwards,

These words shall always stand:

I HATE you plenty Kiku

That you'd better understand!

•

…

But.

•

If any nation tells you tales

About how I had cried,

The night you left me tattered;

The night I nearly died.

•

If others ever snickered on

About the times I'd tried,

To see you even while at war

Despite my aching hide.

•

If others ever gushed to you

That we were always tied,

By crimson threads of destiny

To never be defied.

•

… You'd best ignore the things they say,

Because those nations LIED.

•

And I am just a bumbling fool who can't keep it inside.

•

Who can't control the words he's spewing even if he tried.

* * *

><p><strong>In honour of my grade-school gym teacher, who always told me that "hate, means LOVE!" when I'd told her about how much I hated this one little brat. In my defense, he used to call me "S. Memed!" whenever we passed in the playground, for one reason or another. It was about time he stopped his vile ways.<strong>

**He did, but I never did got to take care of it.**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	17. When I Was Your Man

****Inspired by the charismatic Bruno Mars and his masterpiece ****"****_When I Was Your Man_".****

****Warnings:****

****a) Love triangle!: 2p!China/Japan/*secret character you will find at the end of the poem*****

****b) Expect unexpectedness.****

* * *

><p><strong>When I Was Your Man<strong>

**_Kiku is dancing with another man._**

Beyond the rolling mountains,

Enshrouded

In the black breath of the night,

The village heart was

Aglow

With the zeal of the

Summer Festivals.

Like a flower of fire;

A Goldfish

Dancing amidst the ethereal dusk.

•

A young man admired this

Aestival beauty

From the confines of his home.

As

The song of the festivities

Lured his heart,

_Tugging, tugging_,

Enticing his yearning soul,

The man faltered wistfully.

The muse is caged, unable to be present

To endeavour

The fruit of his culture.

•

"Kiku."

•

He turned to me.

Something like

Sorrow,

Something like

Lust,

Lurking in a prison beyond

The milky opaque of his eyes.

•

"May I be given permission to go?"

He begged.

•

The newcomer,

With hair as

Dark

As the rolling hills,

And eyes which flared like stoked coals,

Fondled Kiku's frail waistline.

•

"Why so,

My beloved Kiku?"

•

"They dance", Kiku

Stifled

A whimper.

His favourite blue robes

Were failing him fast.

"They dance,

And it's the most beautiful thing.

I've always wanted to try,

Yao—"

•

The jaws of

A selfish pride

Clamped

His bottom lip,

Making Kiku revel in innocent pain.

•

_Cruel fate_.

Now he will kiss the festival goodbye for another year.

•

But.

That was years ago.

•

Now my Kiku

Is dancing with another man.

* * *

><p>"Yao?<p>

"YAO!

"YAO, HELP ME!"

•

I cackled with glee.

The statesmen

Huddled around me

Quivered

In their robes.

•

The one-way panel in the

Doorframe

Was all I had to know that the

Fraud Assassins

Had yet to devour you.

•

A simulation.

You were my dainty flower,

But even a rose

Must eventually bear stinging thorns.

Because I loved you,

I'm doing this for

Your

Own good.

•

A statesman's knuckles

Hovered

Temptingly over a lever:

Your only means to safety.

I hissed at him.

He cringed,

Then jerked away.

•

From the cusps of the one-way panel,

You staggered into

A corner,

Your _katana_ sheathed and useless,

Bobbing

Against your shuddering hips.

Screaming my name like a prayer:

"YAO! YAO! YAO, HELP ME!"

•

But I scowled to myself.

Those thorns weren't prickling, and

I

Needed to taste blood.

•

A twisted grin

Curled my lips at the seams.

Made my eyes

Flare

Brighter than nine dying Suns,

As an assassin

Made to unsheathe his dagger.

•

_And that was when I recalled it_.

•

I had not bestowed any of them weapons.

These were not my

Fraud Assassins!

A simulation had rotted into a conspiracy.

•

"PULL THE LEVER!" I roared.

•

The lever was yanked,

But

Plunked off altogether,

Ends mangled and

Chopped;

The masterpiece of a poisoned blade.

•

There was no time to lose.

•

I tore through the screen

And cried:

"KIKU, GIVE ME YOUR HAND!"

•

Kiku's eyes were soft.

The calm after a storm.

But shortly after

Flickered an iridescent russet.

His fingers

Did not clamour for me,

But clenched the hilt of his

_Katana_.

•

The thorns were protracted

Just as I raced to your aid.

Those blood-lathered petals

Knew

Who needed saving from what.

•

But it did not save me.

•

So

Now my Kiku,

Is dancing with another man.

* * *

><p>The letters littered my porch<p>

Like

Wasted dreams.

They'd all began

In the same hopeful cursives:

•

"_My dearest Yao._

_When,_

_May I know,_

_Are you coming home?_"

•

The new year?

The sweltering summer heat?

Even in the crisp, lonely winters.

You drawled through them alone

Weeping in bed,

For I was far too busy

Gambling my hours away.

Far, FAR too busy

To

Ever write back the sincerest:

"_I'm thinking of you always,_

_Kiku_."

Though I loved you,

You

Were never good enough

For my precious immortal clock.

•

So the letters

Kept wafting in.

Then flung outside

To rot amidst the leaves.

•

_Though one day,_

_Even that came to an end._

•

The pile of letters ceased

To ascend to the heavens,

But diminished as

One by one,

They rotted into our mangled past.

Seeped into oblivion,

And the

Rancid autumn leaves,

With no more letters to make up for

The decomposed departures.

•

I clutched your last letter in my fingers.

Trembling with rage.

Wildfire eyes lapping compassion.

Lips twitching and frothing;

Wondering

Selfishly,

If you had forgotten me at last.

•

But when I stormed

The earliest junk

To Nagoya,

You were knee-deep in the company of

The Occident.

•

New friends.

•

Nations

Who'd happily splurge years

To be with you.

To grasp your hand when

Fraud Assassins

Sought to devour you.

To trim your thorns, and present to

You

The dainty flower you've always been within.

To escort you to every festival,

Knowing

How much you'd love

To be able to dance.

•

It was only under Heaven's will

That dynasties proceeding,

My Kiku

Would be dancing with another man.

•

… Tears welled my stoked coals,

Diminishing them

To ashes.

Splayed into the wind with

No words to remember,

No face to see,

And nothing to remain

But

The pungent stench of something burning.

_Burning. Burning…_

* * *

><p>My pride.<p>

My ego.

My needs

And the selfish incubus who'd blinded me

To all of your suffering.

•

I had been a fool.

Holding fast like a dragon his hoard,

Not knowing of what I

Sold

As a price to my sins:

The one nation who meant more to me

Than

Anything else in the world could ever amount to.

•

_My Kiku slipped quietly out of the door that day._

_ •_

To leave the bed we used to share

One side too vast.

The distant banter of the Summer Festivals

A mockery to my bleeding ears.

To harrow my heart and leave it to throb bloody,

Whenever I hear

So much as a sliver of

His name.

•

_Kiku_.

•

You left

To never return to me.

•

For now he is dancing

With another man.

* * *

><p>I behold from the cusps<p>

Of your bathroom mirror,

As your

Other man

Fuss himself.

•

He slips on a

Crimson _kimono_:

Your request for the coming eve.

He fumbles with his belt,

Though

He is laughing.

His amber eyes twinkle with something like glee;

Something like lenient, decrepit love,

As he checks himself

Back and front.

All that time spent on

One silly little date.

From within the cusps of the bathroom mirror,

I laugh with him,

And we grin at each other.

•

At long last,

I coax him to retrieve the

Bouquet

Of scarlet chrysanthemums

From the lip of the basin.

Freshly-picked

In your honour.

•

"I'm ready",

he breathes.

•

"You are",

I assure him.

•

"Yao?"

•

"Kiku!"

He fumbles with the bouquet

And nearly spills it.

I grapple it

Before it could burst.

We chuckle again,

Then,

I dust down his kimono

One last time,

Cuff his hair back into a ponytail,

And send him off to

Escort you

To your first Summer Festival.

•

May this one be yours to treasure to eternity and beyond, my beloved Kiku.

•

My pride.

My ego.

My needs

And the selfish incubus who'd blinded me

To all of your suffering.

•

I know

If I swallow my fiendish dignity now,

And told you first of

How I was wrong.

And how I am sorry,

And

How I want to cleanse all I had

Wracked

Of you,

And do all I should have done

When I was your man.

•

… _I can't._

_Not anymore_.

•

So I bid you farewell,

My beloved Kiku.

With hopes that this

New one

May heal the scars I had pierced

To your soft, fluttering heart.

•

I hope he gives you flowers,

And

Holds your hand,

Even when Fraud Assassins

Threaten

To devour you whole.

•

I hope he dedicates the forever

Of his immortal clock to yours.

•

And I hope he can waltz you to every festival,

And I hope

He dances with you.

•

I hope this other man.

This new Yao,

With soot-brown hair

And

Laughing amber eyes,

Will be whatever to you that I

Wasn't,

And everything more.

•

Doing all the things I should have done

When I was your man.

* * *

><p><strong>Celebrate, my aching worlds! Because the couple we see waltzing before us now, synchronized shoes sifting through the dapple-grey moonlight of the tiles, are two completely different men. No longer the men who had bore grudges unprecedented; no longer the men who clutched love scythed and gushing blood, trapped in the belly of war and conundrum. The mirror is one and the same, but the past is happy to see his future trail away, to repent with joy for all it had harrowed in a world left to dust.<strong>

**I believe they are prepared to dance with other men. **

**As is the nature of 2p!China/Japan/China.**

**... Have you ever thought about it that way?**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	18. The Princess who Seldom Smiled

**"Featuring the Burgundian Chef (Hong Kong)! The Fuchsian Marquess (Taiwan)! The Mudpuddle Stable-boy (Korea)! The Princess (Japan) and his Knight in Red (China) in the spinning tale of...!"**

* * *

><p><strong>The Princess who Seldom Smiled<strong>

_Of a poniard, a curse, and the secrets a voluptuous vernal noon will not tell you_.

It was on

Blessed afternoons such as

These,

When the fervour of life dwindled to serenity,

And

The swallowtail's lisp

Could be heard

As it wafted gently from peony to peony,

That idle chatter was nature's compulsory.

•

And thus it was on this afternoon

That

Four of a company

Were clattered in the Sky Well.

The palace loomed above them,

Oriental collages in the brink of the sky.

•

The Burgundian Chef.

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy.

And the Fuchsian Marquess

Present herself,

To endeavour in the gifts of the Sun.

A rarity indeed!

And perched on the lip of the carp pond

Like varnish

To the Emperor's portrait,

Was the Knight in Red.

•

Came and dawdled

And drawled and coiled;

The fickle nature of a voluptuous vernal noon

And its idle chatter,

As natural as nature itself;

Until

The Fuchsian Marquess,

With the prim audacity of an aristocrat-to-be,

Perched herself high in the stool she'd conquered for herself, and chirped:

•

"Brothers,

Hath the tale of the

Princess who seldom smiled

Not stroked your ears

As of yet?"

•

"It hath mine",

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy,

Whose existence within the rotting gutters of the stables

Proved nothing useful

But to quell the boredom

Of the uncle who tended the piebald tarpans,

Replied to her.

•

"Mine as well",

The Burgundian Chef

Concurred.

•

"And of you,

Oh Knight in Red,

Whom hath remained as silent

As the peonies croon

The whole time our idle chatter had prevailed?"

•

The Knight in Red

Arched his brows,

Deporting himself with a flair of enigma.

Surely he,

Of all the good fellows of the kingdom,

Would have heard of such a tale

Before it could slip the sultry bonds

Of the silken sheets in the chambers.

•

He himself had blossomed a

Dear liking for the Princess,

After all

The hours he had lavished upon him.

After all he had stood at

His side,

Brandishing poniard and effervescent desire,

If just to shield him from

Harm's lust

After the innocent

And the dame.

•

The Marquess, who

Bore no fancy to heralds preceding her,

Fell quiet with bitter disdain.

•

"He is your charge,

Is he not?"

The Burgundian Chef,

Whose thoughts were as thick as velvety sauce,

Flailed an inquiring sleeve.

•

An inquiry which was purloined by

The Fuchsian Marquess, who bombarded with:

"Yes he is!"

•

"The Princess is an oddball,

He is",

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy tsked.

•

Poniard to the brim of its sheath,

The Knight in Red

Posed himself for service,

When the

Fuchsian Marquess interrupted yet again.

•

"Mind you, Stable-boy!

The Princess may seldom smile,

But he

Is tender as fair,

And company far decent than you will ever be!"

•

"Not to the uncle

Who tends to the piebald tarpans,

The Princess is not!"

•

"Then you tell your

Balding uncle

The Marquess

Of the neighbouring kingdom

Condemns him to death by scimitar!"

•

"Be done with it,

The both of you!"

The Burgundian chef raised a hand

To the voluptuous vernal noon.

"but what I cannot comprehend is

Why

The Princess seldom smiles.

Surely the Princess would be happy

With a life

As lavished

As the one he possesses."

•

"Not entirely."

To the bewilderment of his company,

The Knight in Red

Spoke for once in the face of his intimacies.

"For the Princess, within his world

Of unimaginable wealth,

Dwells in his own solitary cavern of

Modesty and demure.

I know this myself, for I've seen it.

Anything seldom passes his lips

But the draft of his chambers,

And he clads

The simplest robes a life of imperial behemoth

Can provision."

•

"I know of that too,

Oh Knight in Red",

Quipped the Fuchsian Marquess.

•

"So why is it so,

The Princess who seldom smiles?"

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy repeated.

"Of that

might you know,

Fuchsian Marquess?"

•

"Of that I may, or

That I may not.

Nevertheless,

I can always try."

•

Attention was lobbed at the

Knight in Red.

"Do so if you wish",

He affirmed,

Fiddling

With the strokes of his ponytail;

Curling smug fingers.

•

"Very well!"

The Fuchsian Marquess' eyes

Glimmered

With vivacious mischief.

"Perhaps,

The Princess who seldom smiles

Is in LOVE!"

•

The oblong of the poniard

Carved

Into the fingertips of the

Knight in Red.

He flinched for

Not the blemish in his hand,

But

At the profanity riddling that word.

That word

Which the Fuchsian Marquess had inscribed upon the noon,

As easy as if she were tossing rice into the air.

•

The path could slither down

Two fates.

Either it could cradle him home,

Or

It could render him the

Blind man,

Stumbling, immune to help,

Into a den of starved lions.

•

"Preposterous!"

Shrieked the Mudpuddle Stable-boy,

Doubling with laughter.

•

"Not so",

The Burgundian Chef

Integrated calmly.

"For the Princess is still of a

Considerable youth.

Not

Of a youth like us three,

That would do good to remember,

But of youth nonetheless.

And

You yourself know

Of how intoxication is a curse to

Youthful blood."

•

"Exactly",

Noddled the Fuchsian Marquess.

"Which is why I make sense,

And the

Mudpuddle Stable-boy

Blithers nonsense."

•

"Lies!

May your hair fall out

By the following eve!"

•

"The quailing heart of the Princess hath been

Laid under siege,

By the curse we know by

Her name as Love",

The Marquess paid no heed to the Stable-boy.

"That is why

He has been somber as of late.

Caged in his thoughts,

And the tumults

Which plague a Maiden Blue

Continue to scratch

The flaccid skin of his almanacs.

So heavy in thought

He is,

That the Princess can seldom smile now,

In spite of the voluptuous vernal noon,

And the swallowtails

Which flit past the seams of his windows.

•

"Might that be true

Oh Knight in Red,

That of you who knows him better than we?"

•

"Possibly so".

It need not matter if it were true or false,

But

Of whom had

Smuggled his Princess' frail heart.

Had stolen

The soft smile of his lips for himself,

And fled into the dawn with the other end of his string.

Fluttering eyelids and murky thoughts

Behind

Murky eyes.

•

"The sire says possibly so!"

The Marquess declared her victory.

•

"It's probably true then.

Possible",

The Burgundian Chef smiled.

•

"But that's not to say that

It is the end,

Is not Marquess?"

Offered the Mudpuddle Stable-boy.

•

"Explain yourself,

Stable-boy."

•

"Surely something

Must have befallen his amour,

For the Princess to

Seldom smile",

Mused the Mudpuddle Stable-boy.

•

"For once you are using your brain,

Mudpuddle Stable-boy",

The Marquess lauded.

•

"I shall take that as a compliment."

•

"Very well, Mudpuddle."

•

"May it be plight

Or prevailed flaws,

Stable-boy?"

Pressed the Burgundian Chef.

•

"Plight, I presume."

The Knight in Red

Strained

His ears with inquiry.

"The Princess may be dull

In the lips.

But the uncle who tends to the piebald tarpans

Claims he is

One of the brightest minds in the land."

•

"True to that,

Mudpuddle Stable-boy",

The Knight in Red approved.

•

"Even I know",

Seconded the Marquess.

•

"So the Princess must be

Bright

Not to fall for a fellow who's

All peach with no stone."

The Knight in Red grinned.

If a deity had heard his youthful heart's clamour,

He

Would be getting a compliment with his larger prize.

"Plight must have

Befallen his suitor,

To banish the Princess into a realm so

Empty

And cold,

Nothing

Can ever coax him to smile."

•

"BUT THAT CAN'T BE!"

Protested

The Knight in Red.

The words betrayed him,

Eliciting

The undivided attention of his company.

•

"Explain,

Oh Knight in Red",

Prompted the Mudpuddle Stable-boy.

•

"The Princess has always been that way.

He told me so",

He said it more

As if

It were a prayer than fact.

"And this hypothetical suitor

Has just fleeted into his life.

If

This fellow had truly been the cause for the

Princess' woes,

Then surely we would have glimpsed

More of

The Princess who Did Not seldom smiled

In his past."

•

"Or perhaps the lucky fellow

Whom

Hath snared the princess' eye,

Hath been with him

His

Entire life",

Suggested the Burgundian Chef.

•

At that moment,

An entity

Sailed

To the roofed terrace which snaked nearby.

The froth of the clear pond

Lapped the margins of the terrace eagerly,

The Lotus heads

Bobbed in silent demure,

As the rustle of cobalt robes

Slurred into the ears of the Knight in Red.

Eliciting the smile of a youth intoxicated.

•

Without so much as a glance to his company,

The Knight in Red

Gathered himself

And went eagerly to his Princess.

They met at the

Lip

Of the courtyard,

Where the Knight

Sank courteously to one knee.

•

"My Princess",

He

Claimed the youth's slender fingers

To plant a

soft kiss

Upon the flaccid of the skin.

•

"Dear Knight",

A gentle maroon blossomed upon

The ivory

Of the princess' cheeks.

•

"What occupies your mind this

Voluptuous vernal noon,

Princess?"

•

"Nothing requiring the service of a poniard,

Dear Knight",

The Princess assured.

"I am just on my way to the

Sky Pavilion

To study the arts of your kingdom."

•

"Shall I escort you?"

•

"That is charmingly gallant of you

Dear Knight,

But

That shan't be necessary."

•

"But I insist!"

"And I insist

You

Enjoy the day,

And dismiss me to my studies",

The Princess coaxed his Knight

To stand up.

And before his astonished company

(all but the Knight),

Did the unprecedented:

•

The Princess who seldom smiled,

Broke into fits of ringing laughter!

•

Oh, that melody which accompanied it!

Stoked the beat of the

Young Knight's heart

And

Mesmerized his company into silence.

•

And the smile that followed!

The smile which

Enticed

The Princess' features

To glow like Sakura lanterns,

Captivated them all

Like a firework display!

•

"It is my command that you do",

The Princess smoothened his shawl and

Gave the Knight in Red a

Graceful bow,

To proceed to the Sky Pavilion.

•

He beamed at the Page-boy passing by,

Who had been trotting along with a chrysanthemum nosegay,

To send the

poor youth

blundering away,

A fever of flushed cheeks and meek guffaws.

•

The Princess,

Much like that of a

Convicted criminal,

Turned a worrisome shade of white.

•

He had fled before the Mudpuddle Stable-boy

Could clamour

To the Knight in Red:

"Oi, Knight!

Shall you proceed to linger there like a monastery,

Or shall you

Return to our company?"

•

The Knight's eyes simmered with blue flames

When he

Turned to his company.

•

"Pardon me, intimacies",

He ghosted past without a glance to them,

Unsheathing his poniard

Grimly

As he did so.

"But it appears I have

Unfinished business

To tend to as of now."

•

And with that said,

The Knight in Red vanished

Into the peony bushes,

Leaving the Marquess, The Stable-boy

And

The Burgundian Chef

To stare after him.

•

"How peculiar",

Sniffed the Fuchsian Marquess.

"Observe, brothers,

The way he stormed before us;

Eyes like a bloodhound's,

Uncharacteristic

To his charismatic ways."

•

"Sinister indeed", voiced

The Burgundian Chef.

"Almost as sinister as

The Princess who seldom smiled

Smiling

Is enthralling to the mortal sight."

•

"But let us not ponder this further,

Or before we know it,

We shall be spluttering tales of how the

Knight in Red,

Too,

Hath fallen victim to the clutches of love!"

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy jeered.

"Burgundian Chef.

You

Hath yet to display your opinion

On why

The Princess who seldom smiled

Is the way he is so."

•

"Very well."

The oblique of his eyes

Swept

To the Fuchsian Marquess.

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy.

And then he blinked most strangely,

And deporting himself with a flair of enigma,

Said:

"I believe

The Princess who seldom smiles

Is so,

Because he is cursed."

•

"Cursed?"

The Fuchsian Marquess spluttered.

•

"Cursed!"

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy cried.

•

"Yes",

The Burgundian Chef nodded.

"The Princess is cursed."

•

"That I know nothing of",

The Marquess admitted.

"Whatever hath driven you

To think that way,

Burgundian Chef?"

•

"Hath the two of you not noticed?"

•

His company shook their heads plaintively.

•

"The Water-bearer.

The Olive Farmer.

The Royal Priest.

The Emperor's New Advisor and

The Buffalo Boy, and

Even

The Royal Chef

Preceding my status.

They had all met their fates the preceding years.

•

"And one ribbon,

The ribbon which tied fall after fall therein,

Was that

The Princess had smiled to them all before

Death

Claimed them to his vile domains.

I know,

For they've flocked to me

One after another

Before their departures,

And had swooned 'till the morn singing:

"Oh, I have seen heaven!

Oh, bless thee, child,

For if you have never prayed eyes

On

The smile of the beautiful Princess,

You

Have not tasted true desire!

True lust!

Another flagon of ale, chef, for

The Princess hath blessed me!

The Princess hath blessed me!

Oh, heaven indeed!"

•

The Burgundian chef

Shook his head solemnly.

"If only those poor fellows hath known of the truth in their words",

He sighed.

"Oh, heaven detest them indeed."

•

The company lingered in

Grave silence,

Absorbing the truth of the Burgundian Chef.

The voluptuous vernal noon

Seemed to be hiding a secret now.

•

"So."

The Mudpuddle Stable-boy shivered.

"The smile of

The Princess who seldom smiled,

Is cursed?"

•

"A curse indeed.

•

"A poor youth is inflicted by it

As soon as

He prays eyes upon the Princess.

Then the curse haunts him,

Stalking him day or dusk

Like a tiger;

A poniard to its sheath.

Waiting

For the night to grow old and weary,

For the moonflowers tell no secrets.

Blood spilled;

Fate impales…

All because a Princess with a beautiful smile

Hath granted his blessings."

•

"But Burgundian Chef,

If

That were the case",

The Marquess' tone

Was riddled with horror,

"Then wouldn't

The Knight in Red

Have already been dead by now?"

•

"Ho, mark my words,

He's already dead."

The Burgundian Chef's stony gaze

Followed

A swallowtail, as the creature wafted gently

From peony to peony.

•

"For the curse be him,

And he be the curse,

Mark my words:

•

"He's already dead."

* * *

><p><strong>My lesson learned: never, EVER underestimate the power of the exclamation mark ever again.<strong>

**I lack practical experience in such topics, but I'm pretty sure anyone with a sound mind wouldn't fancy dating a poniard. Something we refer to here as "kamu itu pacaran atau cari orang tua baru sih?"**

**Ah, but I wouldn't worry so much about it. After all, that's just another beautiful aspect to the world of ChuNi; sometimes China can act like a boisterous little kid that Japan has to tend to, but sometimes China's paternal side can kick in... And that'll still be something Japan has to bear through in certain contexts. Sweet, da?**

**I'll just start worrying when the bodies pile up at Japan's door: "_a man who goes by the alias of 'X' has been found dead in the premises of a Mr. Honda Kiku's abode. Witnesses claim he was last seen alive walking to Mr. Honda's house with a bouquet of flowers, claiming that he was about to "become a singular entity" with Mr. Honda. Witnesses also claimed that Mr. X had been stalked by an ambiguous suspect in a panda suit. Autopsy has revealed that Mr. X died from garrote, and external wounds which could only have been inflicted by a wok._"... This reporter died of food poisoning a week after the article had been published. WOOOO~ SPOOKY!**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	19. Doll

**Dedicated to a true incident: |**h|t|t|p|:|/|/|j|a|p|a|n|d|a|i|l|y|p|r|e|s|s|.|c|o|m|/|l|o|c|a|l|-|r|e|s|i|d|e|n|t|s|-|s|i|g|n|-|p|e|t|i|t|i|o|n|-|t|o|-|k|e|e|p|-|a|-|b|o|m|b|-|d|o|l|l|s|-|i|n|-|h|i|r|o|s|h|i|m|a|-|m|u|s|e|u|m|-|0|7|3|3|4|7|9|/|

* * *

><p><strong>Doll<strong>

_To honour the spirit of remembering in order to forget._

"Thank you Yao.

We

Shall be done soon."

•

He squeezed my hand and

I smiled over my nausea,

Keeping eyes

To Kiku;

Eyes always to Kiku.

•

For doing otherwise would come as a risk.

•

Dangling above me was

The harrowed mate of a suicide pilot.

On either sides, collages

Of black devils

Regarded me with feverish eyes.

Posed

Like actors;

A play of acrimony unfathomed.

And

Jeering to my backside

Were

A throng of rapiers,

To never lap the sweetness of mortal blood forevermore;

_Heaven be gratified!_

•

I only came to a place

As vile

As the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum

For Kiku.

All for my Kiku,

And him for

Some national affair or another:

I knew

He

Wouldn't lay a toe on a

Single polished step of

This place

If duties had not mandated it.

•

We navigated a turn in the hall,

Chained together

Like missions in the snow.

And I

Kept my eyes

To Kiku;

Eyes always to Kiku.

•

Until a splash of

Crimson

Splattered my cheeks,

Enticing my sight without my consent.

•

_And goodness forbade it_.

•

The horror my eyes were forced to drink;

A nightmare revisioned!

A length of wall had been

Emaciated

To cinders and ashes!

Rubble to soot!

A brazier eternally bright

Spitting

Ambers and crimsons

Within its vicinity,

Splotching my skin and igniting something

Deeper in me

Than muscle nor bone.

•

A delta conquered by the

Rotting talons of Death,

Glowing more

Effervescently

Than a thousand dying stars.

•

And yet I approached.

Mindlessly, I approached,

Snared

By perils

Far more soul-harrowing

Than even that crumbling wall.

•

Three dolls,

Resembling

Humans gutted and stuffed.

A schoolgirl.

A little boy, and

A young woman.

All three mangled and shredded,

A tint of such peril and pity etched

Into their faces;

Their clothes tattered; covered

In streaks of mahogany;

Hair ashen;

Skin reduced to soot.

I can taste metal and ire in the air.

•

And yet I approached still.

Mindlessly, I approached still.

To the dust-besotted woman

At the centre of the apocalyptic splay.

•

She must have been very beautiful once.

•

Misty fawn eyes

And dark bangs

Cropped

To the base of her neck.

Shredded robes

And shredded skin,

The tendrils raked her stage like the

Blood did the

Memories,

Drawing essence where its cobalt

Had died into…

•

_Grim familiarity_.

•

I stared at the doll.

She stared at the ghosts behind me,

Face cringing (forever cringing…),

Her fingers curled with

Hesitation

Before her, as if wondering:

"will anyone remember

Japan

After the plight which had

Descended

Upon us today?

Oh mercy my Gods,

Will we be remembered?"

•

I staggered backwards.

Now

The fawn of her eyes

Were glaring into mine.

A flame darted past,

Igniting

Her pallor into that of a skeletal nightmare.

•

The screams of the damned

Pierced

My eardrums to cinders—

•

"Yao?"

•

Kiku appeared

Anxiously before me,

Blotting the doll from my sight.

Immediately

The bombs were disarmed,

Just seeing

My

Kiku.

My Kiku here

To bail me from

The horrors

Of his scythed history.

•

… This…

This is good.

•

Just keep to

Kiku,

Yao.

Keep your eyes

To Kiku;

Always to Kiku,

And see no more.

•

No more! No more!

•

"Yao?"

The brazier frayed with his hair.

Kiku staggered towards me,

Cobalt dress shirt

Trailing from his shadowed limbs.

Eyes wide with worry,

Fingers curled with hesitation.

•

No more! No more!

•

"Yao, you're scaring me!"

He cringed.

•

And just then,

Like some

Dirty joke

Of the past,

A flame engulfed his behind,

Igniting

His pallor into that of a skeletal nightmare.

•

The cackles of the damned

Echoed around me

As I slipped into velvety darkness.

* * *

><p>"Yao!"<p>

•

"Someone dial an ambulance, quickly!"

•

"Yao? Oh my God, Yao, this was a big mistake…"

•

"Daddy, what's wrong with the man on the floor?"

•

"Yao!" _Sob_. "Yao, please wake up!"

•

"Calm down, my dear. Now, what seems to be the matter with your partner?"

•

"Oh _Oba-san_", _sob_. "It's all my fault! I shouldn't have let him accompany me today", _sob_.

"It'd scar him again!"

•

"Kiku?"

I blinked my eyes

Blearily

To the ceiling.

The museum buckled and swayed beneath me.

•

I retreated behind my lids

Once more

With a groan.

•

"Yao!"

Kiku's cries of delight

Pierced

Through the hosanna amidst us.

"Yao",

He took my hand and

Framed it

To his fluttering heartbeat.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again.

It's not good for

You

To be in a place like this.

We'll take our leave now."

•

"Now?" I frowned,

Leaning my head against the wall

I was slumped against.

"But are you even done with

Whatever it is that

You

Needed to do, Kiku?"

•

"Never mind that".

He hauled me to my feet

With the help of

A burly grandmother.

"What matters is that

I get

You

Away from anymore potential accidents."

•

And as he leaned

Me

Against his slender frame,

I complied

Without another word.

•

But as we neared the exit,

I dared myself to

Look back.

Beyond the cockpit of

The suicide pilot's mate;

Drowned

By the collages,

By the mourning rapiers shackled to display.

A small brazier delta where the

Ghosts

Waved their soulless goodbyes to me.

•

That doll was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

><p>We had crossed the courtyard,<p>

When

A dot in the distance

Caught my attention.

•

"Kiku."

He stopped as I did.

"Do you

See what I see?"

•

The dot began to

Shift

Into a young anthropomorphic:

Red shirt and

Shorts.

Brandishing

A binder in both hands.

A child no more than eleven.

•

"What is it Yao?"

•

"Some kid", I murmured.

•

"What about it?"

"He's coming towards us."

"Are you sure?"

•

"China-_san_! Japan-_san_!"

The child stumbled to a halt.

Bowl cut plastered to his glistening forehead;

Breath snatched and shuddering.

•

Kiku kneeled before him

And said:

"Matsui-_kun_.

What is that in

Your

Hands, my child?"

•

"Japan-_san_,

I need your signature!"

•

The grin of an innocent youth

Plastered

On the cherubic child.

He offered his binder to Kiku,

Glancing hopefully

At the nib of the pen

Concealed

In Kiku's breast-pocket.

•

Kiku paled like a ghost

As he saw whatever the binder

Had to show to him.

•

"Child",

I laid a hand on his shoulder, to which

He twitched hopefully.

"Whatever is the matter?

•

"… Oh?"

•

**WE WANT OUR DOLLS BACK!**

Was etched

In vermillion red.

Beneath that,

A mishandle of signatures,

Clamouring

In a way the bland paper

Had no power—

No right—

To silence therein.

•

"I need yours too,

China-_san_!"

The child pointed his spindly fingers

To

A throng of workmen,

Eyes fawn and

Welling with tears.

"They won't listen to us!

None of them

Will listen to us!

If we got two nation-_san_'s to

Sign the petition,

Perhaps they will.

•

"You can't let them take our

Dolls

Away, China-_san_,

PLEASE!"

Poor young Matsui

Began rubbing

The corners of his eyes.

"How else will we remember

Them

If they do?"

•

"But Matsui-_kun_…"

•

"Kiku",

I muttered.

•

Swallowing thickly,

I slipped the pen from above his

Fluttering heartbeat,

To inscribe

Our names at the head of the mishandle.

•

All the while,

Young

Matsui quivered with unveiled excitement.

•

"There you are",

I beamed at him.

"Now,

I hope you know what you're doing,

Young man."

•

"Ah, believe me,

We do!"

Young Matsui laughed.

"Grandpa Katsube

Will be extremely joyous when I show him this."

•

He ghosted into the surge of pedestrians,

His

"Thank you!"s

swallowed by the clamours

And cheers

Awaiting his presence.

•

But it all soon

Vanished

From plain sight,

Obscured by a metal crate

As tall as Kiku himself.

•

I watched in utter silence as

The crate,

Subservient to the dolly it'd been

Shackled upon,

Rattled grimly away from my sight.

•

Kiku, too,

Watched it go

Before

He regarded me queerly.

•

"Why did you sign it Yao?"

His voice riddled with hurt.

•

I swept my gaze to him.

Vented to the urge

To absorb his all;

Study every sweep of calligraphy

Which riddled his visage:

His fawn eyes;

The dark locks

Which limped to the base of his neck.

•

Smiling,

I tucked the pen over

His fluttering heartbeat

And silently praised

The beautiful mist of his eyes.

•

"She looked just like you."

* * *

><p><strong>Aside from, you know, that fact that she's a woman and Kiku's a guy-nation s'all. Nonetheless, Kiku was the first person who came up in my head when I first saw the picture of the adult woman-doll: same hair; same clothes; same time and place...<strong>

**One a side note, Matsui's name is here for a very good reason.**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	20. Aiyaa, Five Hundred Years (a parody)

**_Pssst!_ In this poem, you can sing Yao's serenade to the tune of _Aiyaa Four Thousand Years_, one of his character songs. Try it as you read through this one!**

* * *

><p><strong>Aiyaa, Five Hundred Years<strong>

_Serenades speak from the heart, aru_.

All was silent

That aestival eve.

•

The trees did not

Indulge

In the dances of summer;

The cicadas

Clasped their limbs together,

Anticipating

The clamour of something

Magnificent.

And the balmy aestival gust

Excelled not murmurs,

Whispering

Dreams they've had:

Of the sweet scent which smothered their

Presence tonight,

And of better things

To come in the melrose eve.

Delightful gifts

For every heart of

The quailing maiden.

Luscious opportunities

For

The most daring of knights.

•

The Aestival Moon bore

Silent overseer

To this all,

Full and pale and

Splendid in its entirety.

•

The Maiden Blue whose name we know as

Honda Kiku

Praised her beauty

With the fawn of his eyes.

•

For he

Was perched at the lip of a balcony,

Honda Kiku

And

The Aestival Moon

Appeared to be dear friends;

Exchanging

Maidenly secrets

Unheard

By the silent cicadas,

And

Concurring the other's ambience

With demure appraisal.

•

It was in this manner

That

The aestival eve flitted onwards,

Like silken robes over

The ivory skin

Of a damsel-to-be.

•

Until intervention arrived.

•

In the form of a pebble

Which sailed

Through the sultry aestival eve,

Barely missing

Honda Kiku

By the tip of his dainty nose.

•

Perturbed,

Honda Kiku

Scrambled to the rim of the balcony,

Shawl fluttering

Inquisitively

Against the aestival gust.

•

What assaulted him next

Was

A chrysanthemum flower.

The furls of its frock

Kissed

His soft forehead,

Before it fluttered to the floor with

Silent giggles.

•

Honda Kiku,

Mystified beyond

Words,

Leaned over the rim of the balcony.

•

Posed at the heart of the courtyard,

Dazzling

In armor of red

Unchallenged by the livid anthurium vines,

Was a specimen of unparalleled valor.

Eyes amber, aglow, and

Spewing

With youthful amour,

Captivated

Honda Kiku's fawn splendour

As the gentleman strutted forward,

Fiddle and bow

Braced in his gauntlet,

As he prepared a serenade for his Maiden Blue.

•

The slurring

Melodies of foreplay

Fondled the air between them.

•

"Wang Yao",

Honda Kiku delighted.

•

"Honda Kiku",

Wang Yao returned sensually, before

His honey-sweet voice

Commenced, and he crooned:

"_'__Tis a song for my Maiden Blue!_"

•

Honda Kiku

Perched his elbows

Wistfully

At the lip of the balcony.

•

"_Ever since the dawn of time,_

_Countless of knights preceding my own_

_Submit themselves to the lisp of love;_

_Serenades speak from the heart_…"

•

Wang Yao

Paled in mid-breath,

Mind going numb with the inability to resume.

•

"… _Aru?_"

•

Honda Kiku giggled tenderly.

•

Satisfied,

Wang Yao

Resumed his courtly display.

•

"_On the banks of the Yangtze,_

_Out of his cage, a quail departs._

_From the place where my virtues lay,_

_Only one Sun glows for me, aru_.

•

"_Honda Kiku;_

_Are you aware of my heart's lust for yours, aru-yo?_

_ •_

"_Ni hao ma,_

_Feelings gay and blight enticing me, aru._

_It is of all my honour and my pride,_

_Being your Knight aru._

_ •_

"_The dragons of Emei shan,_

_Lured by the fragrance of sea;_

_Such is the way that I_

_Found my place with you._

_Two hearts beat as one;_

_Let's enrich history together aru._

_The blade in his sheath is agleam with vivacity,_

_Aa-ii-ya-yaa.._."

•

"Wang Yao,

Are you not feeling ill,

Serenading me

In the balmy aestival eve?"

•

"But we are just getting to

The best part!"

The fiddle and bow

Screamed

Its undying passion in

The gauntlets of the Knight.

•

"Well…"

A tender maroon

Blossomed

Upon Honda Kiku's visage.

"Since you insist on it so,

Then

It would be rude of me to decline."

•

"Very well then,

My chrysanthemum dear",

Wang Yao laughed as

The fiddle

Warbled into verses anew.

•

"_Tousled upon the feral East,_

_I met a Maiden Blue so dear._

_Time be come and before we knew,_

_Friendship had bloomed into more, aru._

_ •_

"_Pray my dear,_

_It is the moon prophesizing our love, aru-ka._

_Wan shang hao,_

_Let us prove our gratitude to her Grace aru._

_All the colours of love now are a-fly,_

_Staining red aru._

_ •_

"_The winds of our Fareast home,_

_Breathe to the seams of the world;_

_Such it is the extent_

_Of my love for you._

_There will come a time_

_When the carnations shall wither aru._

_But petals that scatter will surely return to us—_

_ •_

"AA-II-YA-YAA!"

•

The clamour of guards

Shattered

The Aestival Moon in the pond.

The cicadas screeched to life,

Frightened

By the intervention.

•

Honda Kiku

Cried with bewilderment.

•

"What is happening

Wang Yao!"

•

The Knight allowed

The last note of the

Fiddle and bow

To flutter into the mangled aestival eve.

•

"The guards…"

•

"Of whom,

Wang Yao!"

•

"Your guards!"  
>•<p>

"WHAT?

But for whatever the reason,

Wang Yao!"

•

"I… Um… Might have broken into your home just now."

•

Honda Kiku's visage was

Frigid

With cold mortification.

•

"Why didn't you just take the front gate then!"

•

"Because scaling the wall sounded more romantic!"

•

And as the night

Roared

Into unkempt spleen,

Shrieking

With the clamours and blunders

Of copper-plated men,

When Honda Kiku leaned over the balcony,

His lover

Had dissipated into the

Cusps

Of the shadows.

•

Trembling,

The Maiden Blue

Shrank a step back.

•

Into the arms of his

Knight in Red,

Who seduced him indoors with no sound

But the rustle of Honda Kiku's shawl,

To tell that a

Maiden Blue

And his

Knight in Red

Had ever been.

•

They sheltered in the

Lambent luminescence

Of the candelabra.

One

Cloaked within the other.

•

Wang Yao

Perceived

The clamour outdoors

In grim silence,

Fiddle and bow

Clutched in his right gauntlet.

•

"Play for me,

Wang Yao",

Honda Kiku pleaded.

•

And so he did;

Accompanied

By the tinkle of the Aestival Moon's tears.

•

"_And though you may carve my back;_

_Leave me to die of morose._

_Love is effervescent;_

_And its colours show_."

•

The shrieks of the night ensued.

But the lovers

Were sealed in their beautiful world.

•

"_Two hearts beat as one,_

_Knowing they'll meet when skies clear, aru._

_The love that I harbour is spinning eternity_

_Aa-ii-ya-yaa…_"

•

And with a kiss to his lips,

Wang Yao

Vanished into the eve.

•

The Maiden Blue,

With tears

Welling fresh in the fawn of his eyes,

Flew to the balcony.

•

The aestival gust joggled his visage;

His robes and his shawl;

Conceiving the

Echoes

Of his lover's voice.

Spinning; spinning!

Reveling the Aestival Moon as it swore:

•

"Even when the carnations wither!

Even when the rapier sieges my blood!

Even when these words rot and decay,

And this serenade

Is all but lost in the belly of time!

I

Shall always…

Gaze at the same moon as you."

•

_I love you._

_I love you more than you will ever know_.

* * *

><p><strong>Wooo, that was fun! I should write stuff like this more often... Though I have to admit that making poem-slash-parodies of songs is the hardest feat I've ever attempted to do since I started this collection. This is because I had to slot everything to fit into the original song, while still maintaining the poetic elements of the piece. Though I have to admit that as I hummed the lines again, a week's worth of work definitely did paid off. This was one of the hardest things I've done since I started this, but it was definitely one of the funnest too.<strong>

**On an irrelevant note, here's one more reason to anticipate the year 2015!: |h|t|t|p|:|/|/|w|w|w|.|c|h|i|n|a|d|a|i|l|y|.|c|o|m|.|c|n|/|c|h|i|n|a|/|2|0|1|4|-|1|2|/|0|4|/|c|o|n|t|e|n|t|_|1|9|0|2|1|3|7|7|.|h|t|m|**

**-Plumeria hi**


	21. A Spoilt Child

**It's not fair that Yao is the only one who gets to repent for the past in a poem, isn't it? Which makes this poem somewhat of a sequel to "When I Was Your Man".**

**2p!Japan/China yo!**

* * *

><p><strong>A Spoilt Child<strong>

_It was never your fault. Just as it was never mine_.

Spliced skies and tattered parasol.

•

A viridian plume of loneliness

Swallows me whole,

So that my crimson gaze shan't glimpse anything

Before

Or behind

Or above me.

A syncopation to this ethereal kingdom

Where I am blind.

•

Drenched.

Drenched and shivering in my

Sodden summer robes.

Drenched and

Too proud

To admit it.

•

Too proud to stagger home

With my tail between my feet,

To tell you that

You

Had been right all along,

When you prophesized that

The Heavens

Shall weep tears today.

•

"But I want to go."

•

You stared at me from our bed.

Something like condescension;

Something like paternal grace

Limpid in frivolous eyes.

I hated it when you did that.

•

Because no matter how I made it to be,

You

Will always be taller than me.

You

Will always see further than I will.

You

Will always know more than I ever will.

•

"The Heavens

Shall weep tears today."

•

"But even deities can lie."

I unfurled my parasol stubbornly.

Aging wood and swallow's songs;

With the scent of the nosegay,

It smelled heavenly of home.

•

"The Heavens

Shall weep tears today",

Yao drawled with a monotony

Which peeved me to no end.

"Come back here with me.

Come back

While the storm

Is still evadable."

•

"You can't tell me what to do!"

No one can.

Not even Yao.

Not even you.

•

Yao closed his eyes and yawned,

Then drawled under his breath:

"If you insist."

•

I'd pulled a face and flounced away.

•

_And look where I am now_.

•

Drenched and blind, Yao!

I'm telling you,

I'm drenched and blind and I want to go home,

But I can't!

I can't

Because I know you'll be there.

Your

Presence alone shall scoff:

"Didn't I tell you Kiku?

Didn't I tell you it would rain today?"

•

And I'm not failing myself to that.

Even if I have to shiver and drench

In this summer storm;

Even if I have to bow

To Heaven's aquatic armada,

I'll never let you win!

•

… But what is this?

•

The rain-swept boulevard

Loomed into view;

Smidgens of colour imposed

By the wildflowers

Seasoning draft and soil.

The armada had retreated.

•

Like a deity had

Clawed a hole into the sky;

My relief against the viridian plume.

•

That hole

Being a parasol.

That relief

Being the warmth of a carmine _chen shan_.

Swaddling my quivering shoulders like

The embrace of a lover.

•

That deity being

Wang Yao,

Who coaxed me to my feet and

Grinning,

Murmured to me:

•

"Even the deities can lie,

So

It's a good thing we're together."

•

But as you carried me into autumn,

And the

Viridian plume overhead

Burst

Into livid leaves of amber,

I wriggled

Out

Of your arms;

Out

Of your baggy _chen shan_,

And ran ahead of you.

•

If just to pretend that

I can be ahead for once.

If just to pretend that

I'm capable alone.

•

It's your fault that I'm this pathetic.

* * *

><p>"Kiku, put the jacket on."<p>

•

"No."

•

"Kiku, you're bound to catch something

If you don't put that jacket on."

•

"No."

•

"Kiku,

Don't you think

I

Know what's best for you?"

•

Pale cheeks,

Bee-stung lips and

Blue fingers.

Bones rattling furtively

As I

Snuggled closer to the frosty hibernal ether.

An autumn _kimono_

Failed justice

To the frigidness of winter.

•

But was I ever going to learn to let you have your way?

•

"You're not my _mikado_",

I sniffed.

•

"Then let me be today! In the fact that

I just want what's

Best

For you, Kiku",

You insisted.

•

"I think

I

Know what's best for

Myself",

I'd argued.

•

Ignoring your icy glare,

I

Shoved further off of the porch,

If just to deport a façade of rebellion.

I lobbed my jacket

At your feet.

•

And Yao

Just stared at it blankly.

•

Before, to

My silent horrification,

You slipped your own off of your

Broad shoulders.

•

The frigidness of winter

Did no justice

To bones three thousand years old.

You shivered violently

As your blue fingers

Offered the jacket to me.

•

"If you don't want yours",

Your teeth clattered,

"Then

At least take mine."

•

But did I take it?

Or did I decline and

Snuffed you back within it?

•

I just played the cruel sitting duck

And glared at the garment;

Pocked holes in the faded red

With slits for daggers.

I glared at your solemn expression.

•

It's your fault.

It's your fault I'm feeling the way I am now.

Ravished

By the tendrils of guilt,

And enticed

By your valor unending.

It's your fault

You don't ever play fair!

•

With a snarl,

I slapped your hands away

And

Took to the blizzard.

The rapier of the hibernal gust

Howled and yanked at my skin,

Drowning

Your cries.

•

And the wildflowers that seeped from

The underground slush.

They were trampled in my fury;

So furious was I that

I never realized

I had ran into spring.

* * *

><p>The icy serviceman of winter,<p>

Or the fervour of damsel spring?

The viridian plume of summer's _mikado_,

Or the ire of autumn's envoy ablaze?

•

Degrading morale and

The rancid stench

Of blood and decay.

From the churning Burgundian mist,

Bullets and arrows

Rained down to puncture the crippled earth.

Somewhere in the

Emaciated skeleton of the city,

A child howled for her mother.

•

What sort of season was this?

•

"CALL IT OFF, KIKU!"

Crimson eyes scanned

The man

Kneeling before me.

•

Was that really you,

Wang Yao?

•

What happened to

The frivolous Middle Kingdom

Who always loomed taller than me?

The roots of your fingers are caked in blood.

Hair, unkempt and greasy,

Hung limp to your blemished chest.

Your skin piebald;

Your clothes tattered and filthy.

•

A tail or red

Leaked down your breeches.

•

"Call it off!"

You wailed like a feral beast.

•

It hurts, doesn't it?

•

"You know this is all your fault,

Right?"

•

"Y-yes",

You lied.

"I-it's all my…"

•

"LIES!"

I dodged a

Swipe of your hands.

•

"Call it off!"

You begged again.

Before I could leave, you grabbed my legs.

•

And the frivolous Middle Kingdom

Began to weep at my feet.

Kissing my shoes and

Bashing

His forehead against the ground.

•

"Call it off Kiku!

YOU WIN! YOU WIN!"

You howled.

"JUST CALL IT OFF!...

If not for me,

Do it for the sake of my children.

Their parents are dead

And their homes burned to the ground.

They have nothing left but trauma

And crimson skies to lull them goodnight.

•

"Spare them",

You kowtowed,

"and leave their spirits undisturbed in sleep."

•

Yao kept his head bowed,

So that

He did not see

The flare in my crimson eyes.

How my lips

Twitched and quivered

With a devilish hatred for you;

For your children;

For the bludgeoned ghosts of their parents!

•

"You're challenging my authority, Yao!"

I screamed.

•

You did nothing in response.

•

"You're mean and you're horrible!"

•

No response.

•

"I HATE YOU!

IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!

THIS

IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

•

And as I kicked you away,

You fell

Limply

Against the punctured ground.

Eyed closed.

Lips chapped and bleeding.

•

Unmoving.

•

Unbreathing.

•

"…Yao?"

I sank to my knees.

"Yao?

D-don't scare me.

You're only trying to scare me,

Aren't you?"

I rested his head on my lap.

•

And still you didn't move.

•

I shook you!

Slapped you!

Screamed your name like a dying prayer to the entity of the filthy skies!

Why

Are you doing this to me?

It's not fair!

It's not fair!

•

"WAKE UP, YAO! WAKE UP!"

The tears that I've

Always been too proud

To shed

Splattered against your

Sorry face.

"WAKE UP!

I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!

THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT,

YAO!

•

"YAO!"

•

Panting,

I allowed my gaze to

Falter

At nothing.

I'd ended you,

But

You

Have ended something larger in me,

By blubbering in the face of a scrap of metal.

•

A scrap of metal!

If I had known you were

This

Fallible…

•

"This is all your fault."

The battle cries of

Shadow-plated men

Thundered

Amidst the churning red mist.

•

"… It's all your fault that

I

Love you too much

To let your life to waste."

* * *

><p>Spring, summer, fall and winter.<p>

Winter, spring, summer and fall.

The damsel, the envoy, the serviceman and the fall.

The serviceman, the damsel, the envoy and the fall.

•

The seasons

Continued to

Blossom and wither beyond the window.

How selfish…

And now it is winter again.

•

I sat with my back to the wall.

The blood had long dried

In these eyes,

Caking into

The colour of flayed skin,

And dead

To any slivers of happiness in this filthy world.

•

I quivered in a

Worn jacket.

My breath misted before me,

Ghosting away

Before I can reach a finger to touch.

•

The distant squeals of children

Mocked me.

•

What did I look like now?

Do I look like

I'm waiting for you

Do I look like

I'm dying without you?

Like

I need you?

Like you're really coming back?

•

"Cold."

I clutched the coat tighter.

"So… So cold."

•

You couldn't be cold.

You

Were never cold; always warm.

Always warm

From your head to your slippers.

Warm in the arms and warm on the lips.

I've missed your warmth.

•

And suddenly, I began to cry.

•

And still you kept coming.

Fragments of you

misting in places:

Frivolous eyes

And a handsome smile,

Warmer than any jacket can ever be.

•

I've missed you!

I've missed you so!

•

I've missed you

Ever since I left you in

That infirmary.

•

I've missed you since

I blundered from home,

Never to come back.

Never to see

How you've shriveled up without love.

•

I'll kill me by

Admitting

That it was never your fault.

It was never

Your

Fault that I'm crazy for you.

It was never

Your

Fault that I'm bleeding for you now,

And it was never

Your

Fault that I loved you so much that

I

Wanted to kill you.

•

It's always been me.

•

I'm

The one who drank the nightshade for

You.

That scrap of metal was

Mine.

•

And that love

Was mine to clutch to my chest.

Clutched so tightly it burned.

•

I'm a spoilt child.

And that's all

I'll ever be now.

•

It's my fault.

And it's because of me that you're never coming home.

•

I blinked my eyes wearily, as

Tears of vermillion

Seeped down my cheeks.

•

Falling

To stain the flaccid snow at my feet.

* * *

><p>Back through two thousand<p>

Spinning seasons;

Is this the same

Wang Yao

Who had died in my arms?

•

Your smile a

Healthy shade of gold.

I'm happy to see you

Glow

Amidst the viridian plume,

Sharing a parasol

With

A new one.

•

He's better than I ever was.

•

His eyes a soft doe;

His heart like soft dawn.

He never yells at you, and he

Never

Wants to pick a fight.

You are

Flawless

In his eyes.

•

And for that,

I am happy for you.

•

Even if I have to let go of you now.

Even if I am now just

A fleeting mirage

To you;

Scattered ripples in the

Puddles

Littering your slippers.

•

Slinging your arm over his shoulder,

You and the

New one

Vanish into the viridian plume.

And the leaves overhead

Burst

Into livid leaves of amber.

•

I suppose we both know who this fall belongs to.

•

But you leave me for better things Yao.

Leave me for things

That won't kill you.

Leave what had rotted and spoilt.

You

Deserve better anyway.

•

And always know that

I'm happy for you.

These crimson eyes that have flayed and decayed with the rain.

* * *

><p><strong>BEFORE ANYONE MENTIONS IT TO ME!... Yes, I'm aware that "unbreathing" is not a real word in the dictionary. "Melrose" isn't a word either, but the poem wanted to keep both really badly, and I am prone to spoiling my poems. If you've ever seen a poem's puppy-dog eyes, you'll sympathize in an instant.<strong>

**As a ChuNi shipper, I have developed this funny obsession that I'm entitled to treating both Yao and Kiku equally. If I lavish love upon one, I must lavish love upon the other one shortly after. If I diss one in a piece, I won't shrug it off until I've dissed the other one either. Similarly, if Yao and Kiku end up in real-life conflicts, it's both their faults and no one's fault at the same time.**

**Oh, bludgeon it. I think I'm seriously obsessed with Sino-Japan now.**

**By the way, "Aiyaa Five Hundred Years" is seriously working it in the views section of this story ever since it was uploaded yesterday! Are you guys having fun with that little schnoodle? :D In that case, I'm definitely writing another parody in the near future. **

**-Plumeria-hi**


	22. Plumage Dark and Sleek

**'TIS THE WINTER HORIDAYS AT RAST!... I sorry; I'm sorry! It's just that I saw Kiku talking like this in this one really funny crack-art and I wanted to see what I'd sound like. While it's snowing somewhere up north, here in Surabaya it is raining cats n' dogs and we like that.**

* * *

><p><strong>Plumage Dark and Sleek<strong>

_Of the devil's cove and his servicemen_.

One pleasant vernal noon,

When even trees are still,

A little bird came to a rest

Upon my windowsill.

•

A darling little bird indeed

With plumage dark and sleek,

With eyes that glowed like rubies

And a curved and gilded beak.

•

I said, "good day oh little one."

She said, "how do you do?

Of what have you to contemplate

To make you seem so blue?"

•

"But I am anything but blue

Oh darling little bird",

I said it in a voice so soft

That she hath only heard.

•

The darling bird, she scratched a wing

And crowed, "why are you so?

Come lisp it to my ears, Kiku,

I really want to know!"

•

"Because', I sighed in wistful glee,

"I'm waiting for my love;

For he hath run to fight a war

Against the devil's cove.

•

"His hair of softest ebony;

His heart of gold and roe.

His shoulders broad and warm—oh dear!

I really miss him so.

•

"One day he shall return to me

So we may love again.

But until then, content, I'll wait

Through hell, through mire detained!"

•

The little bird, she cocked her head

And murmured, "ah, I see.

You're waiting for your love who's fighting

His own misery."

•

"Oh dear, oh no my little one,

He's not just my love's brawl.

He's his; he's mine; he's yours as well,

A nemesis to all!

•

"His halo dark as thunderstorms;

His heart is cold and cruel.

He rapes and pillage; plunder ; waste;

Grim ransom is his fuel.

•

"My dear love stands against it all;

One in a thousand friend.

And standing tall, he shall remain

'Till we can love again."

•

"The devil's cove is all that bad,

As you have made it so?"

"It's true, my darling little bird,

I'm glad that you now know."

•

"Then why is it, my Kiku dear,

That you're not in that war?"

The bird quipped with a husky drawl,

As if it were dark lore.

•

My cheeks turned pale as virgin snow,

And in a lisp of dread,

I whispered, "but I shan't, dear one,

Or you can have my head.

•

"I've wandered into battlefields

Once in my younger days,

And when I did, the devil's cove,

He branded me his ways.

•

"I raped and pillaged; plundered; wasted;

Acted like a fool.

A slave to vile damnation;

His empty-headed mule.

•

"And I shall be that man, no more,

As long as I seep blood!

And walking into war again

Will trap me in his mud.

•

"For know of this, I now still bear

The devil's wretched mark.

He'll take me back with ease, just as

A wriggle to the lark.

•

"So here I shall remain well-hid,

So all shall be at gain.

My lover will fight for our names

'Till we can love again."

•

I finished with a pleasant smile,

Expecting her appraisals.

But she, the little bird so black,

Just pelted me with daggers.

•

And puffing up her plumage dark

And sleek she crowed with ire:

"You foolish boy! You mortal hick

Consumed by crude desire!

•

"Can you not see what's happening

Or are you truly blind?

Your love shall not come home to you,

And love you'll never find!

•

"They're plotting war against a dame

They deem is weak; is pure; is lame!

And when the time arrives to strike,

By moonlight, he shall die from pike.

And when the pike did pierce his skin,

He'll realize he'll never win!

And when those words is fading song…

_You'll see I was right all along_.

•

"So polish her, that rusty sword

You keep beside the lyre,

And prove to them true mutiny;

A dame's incessant FIRE!"

•

And I fell quiet listening

To what is now familiar.

An echo from a tattered past

Of blood and gore…

_ •_

_Peculiar_.

•

"So what you say is that I'll fall

If I do not succumb,

Myself to warring once again

And all that is to come?"

•

"Then in that case the sword I'll draw

From her place by the lyre.

And spill the blood of servicemen

I shall with crimson fire."

•

"And now you know whom to kill first,

To slit his throat and quench your thirst!

To carve a new scar down his back!

And to his love, you'll hack, hack, HACK!"

The little bird she crowed with glee

As this she chanted on to me.

•

But she should know that I am now

A stronger Maiden Blue.

•

"I'll gladly slit a throat or two,

But first I'd like to slaughter YOU."

* * *

><p><strong>Inspired by the idiom "a little bird told me".<strong>

**It just comes to show that you can't trust everything every little bird tells you, yes? Especially if that bird is propaganda; especially if those words are propaganda. You have no idea how many times something as stupid as words had caused something half-or-over the size of a world war to blow up.**

**By the way, I realized I'm using the words "vernal" and "aestival" very often nowadays. When's "autumnal" and "hibernal" every going to pop up, huh?  
><strong>

**-Plumeria-hi**


	23. Come Back

**Short first-acoustic-poem-in-forever is disappointingly short. Wait, what did I just say? Oh yes! Guys; this is actually an acoustic poem! (just like "permanent traces"). However, little hint-hint: the substratum is not in English... Well, not exactly. Partially. /span/strongstrong style="line-height: 115%;"span style="font-family: Gabriola;"Indonesian readers who are familiar with the lingo, however, will understand. Translation (to the best of my abilities) is provided at the end of the poem**

* * *

><p><strong>Come Back<strong>

_Forever is a long time to be alone_.

Give it or take it.

A world of dismal, when your

Love hath faded to dust.

A swallow laments his lost;

Urn defiled, consumed by his host.

•

Pray my beloved: come back! Come back, I say!

Or I shall waste away.

Eternally cursed

To live life in dismay.

* * *

><p><strong>Galau = it literally means something analogous to catastrophe. Apparently it also refers to the somber state one is stereotypically expected to experience after breaking up with one's love.<strong>

**Poet = ... Poet.**  
><strong>Galau poet = a poet who is experiencing the phenomenon "<em>galau<em>".**

**Dedicated to my visual arts teacher, who took to asking if I was a "galau poet" when I wrote the poem "_roses are red; violets are blue; ... Is that the best you can do? Look-she left you. Boo hoo_" on the chalkboard. **

**-Plumeria-hi**


	24. May You Smile For Me (another parody)

**As promised, I am back with another parody-poem! This time the italicized lyrics can be sung along with the tune of one of Kiku's character songs, "May You Smile Today" (I really wanted to go with one of his older character songs to sync up with "Aiyaa Four Thousand Years", but this one definitely took the cake for me). So y'all know what that means... SING LIKE KIKU TIIIIME!**

**But unlike the first parody-poem, there are minor parts in this that are sung specifically by Yao too. Just a heads-up on that.**

* * *

><p><strong>May You Smile For Me<strong>

_Of the beginning of these stories._

A sigh of heresy flaccid

Scattered a

Dainty blossom

From his perch of bark ebony.

•

Wafting in a

Cluster of gauzy petals;

Spinning with the midsummer gust,

The blossom made his

Graceful descent

To the Earth awaiting beneath

With eager hands;

Smooth and cool and embracing.

•

It came to a halt at the

Heel

Of a crimson boot.

That boot

The possession of

His valour the Knight in Red:

Wang Yao.

Heart-captor from

The kingdom across the seas.

•

And as the Knight

Clicked his heels

And marched away,

The

Dainty blossom

Was lobbed into motion once more.

Slipping and tumbling

And twirling and furling;

Grazing

The heel of a

Maiden Blue:

Honda Kiku.

Diurnal luminescence

Renown through the empress' reign.

•

Where it stayed,

For the dame hath been cursed

By the spell whom we know by her name as love.

She filled his heart with giggling yearning,

And the oblique of his eyes

Hath yet to

Depart

From his culprit.

•

And who may this culprit be,

If it hath not been the

Knight in Red

Himself?

•

"Oh Knight so dear",

The dame mourned.

"I am hopelessly in love with thee,

Oh Knight in Red so dear."

•

What pranksters these deities be!

To have conceived an

Imbecile

Like love.

Every blink of the Knight's

Fiery eyes

Set the damsel's alight.

Every word of his preaching

Was a song

Which placed the zither to shame.

•

And the stars of his soul.

Lo and behold,

Those stars of his veteran soul!

An ebullience

Unmatched by the flowers native to summer's dusk.

•

Enough to

Govern his world,

So that all else of

Darned reality

Faded to wisps of nothing.

Leaving the

Pursuer

And his meek, unsuspected

Pursuee

To their chase of wild swans.

•

From the distance,

What should the dame perceive

But

The vivacious giggle of the lyre!

The melody seemed to beckon his

Wistful self, as if chirping:

•

"Come, my fair specimen!

Come pour your

Bleeding heart

To the joy of the lyre and the song;

A world welcoming

All

That is of the

Heart and the soul!"

•

Blind to his surroundings,

Honda Kiku

Began to sing softly to himself.

•

And Wang Yao remained posed worlds away,

Oblivious to the feast he was to

The yearning heart of a Maiden Blue.

•

"_Is this safe, my heart throbs faster._

_Feelings that I've never endeavoured before;_

_It is a world to how I've stumbled, I haven't a clue._

_There is a Knight of gleaming red,_

_And he hath sieged without my consent._

_Dear gods,_

_How could this have happened to me?_

•

"_Who could you be? Where did you come from?_

_Hath you a lover?_

_But should such things you mustn't show…_

_Please dearest Knight, your name may I know_?"

•

At that moment,

As if

His song had conjured an imp

To hackle his cover,

Wang Yao glanced towards the Maiden Blue.

Fiery eyes

Unmoving.

Fiery eyes unwavering.

•

And faster than lightning,

Honda Kiku

Flitted away in a

Muddle of splutters and yelps,

The ivory of his cheeks incandescent like brothel lanterns.

•

Unaware

That he was being followed.

•

"_Why is it so hard for one to be in love?_

_Drunk and giddy every time you_

_Come to be nearby._

_Love is shameless; cheating._

_Playing games feels wrong._

_But if it means I'm winning you then I'll play along._"

•

Pummeling down the cobbled boulevard,

As a

Rainbow of laundry

Flitted over his head,

Honda Kiku

Darted into an alleyway.

There he sagged against the wall,

His slim fingers

Clutching

The banter of his virgin heart.

Was it the chase

Or

His dear knight's face

That was the culprit to blame?

•

"_Tossed upon this feral kingdom,_

_That was how you blundered into my affairs._

_And since then you wouldn't budge_

_From my empty space._

_If I keep pretending that_

_I can un-see you in this way…_

_Dear gods,_

_Take me now before this love does_.

•

"_What have you seen that's foreign to me?_

_What makes you glad?_

_If I pour my heart to you…_

_Will I be fit to have it concurred?_"

•

The dame sighed softly.

•

"_Why has it been hard since I had fell in love?_

_Fire flowers blooming therein,_

_Brighter is your smile_."

•

Honda Kiku

Trailed lifelessly into the streets.

Eyes misty and downcast,

Betraying

Not the thoughts he reserved for

Himself alone.

•

Never seeing

The red-clad stranger

He passed by the apothecary

Lower his scroll,

To watch him with

Fiery eyes

Unmoving.

Fiery eyes unwavering.

Heart lurching out of his chest

At

The sight of the Maiden Blue as he murmured:

•

"_Now who could his name be,_

_Dearest Maiden Blue?_

_God forbid,_

_I think my youthful heart hath been drawn to you_…"

•

"_I am undeserving of_

_This love that shrieks but never tells you_

_All the times;_

_All that it clamours night and day!_

_I'm a milksop and I apologize._

_I can't tell you so I'll apologize._

_Nothing but a hapless victim waiting for your move…_"

•

"WAIT A MOMENT!"

•

With a gasp,

Honda Kiku

Swiveled around in

Time

To see the Knight bounding for him.

His grin effervescent;

His visage flushed with the

Flying colours of love

As he waved a gauntlet.

"Wait a moment!

Wait I say,

To the Maiden Blue

Perched

So far away!"

•

No other maiden wore blue that day.

Nor were there

Other maidens

Frolicking the boulevard,

But a throng of gentries who turned with

Honda Kiku

To regard their competitor with

A hissing contempt.

•

But Honda Kiku.

Sweet,

Milksop Honda Kiku

Was a different story altogether.

•

With his indignant heart

Eating away at his desires,

He whirled

In a flurry of navy robes

And charged into the crowd.

•

But the Knight's footsteps

Can still be discerned;

His clamours

Drowning the sweet aestival gust:

"Wait,

Wait I say!

I'm hopelessly in love with thee!"

The screams and the

Tiddle-dee

Of a bamboo flute

Kissed the air, begging the dame to remain.

•

But love was a

Double-threat

And it carried him away.

Carried

Honda Kiku

Into a secluded carp pond,

To which he collapsed

At its cool mossy rim.

•

His heart

Poured out of him with the

Inconsolable tears,

As he whimpered a final

Shuddering verse.

•

"_Why is it so hard for one to fall in love?_

_What am I to do now that you've_

_Concurred my heart's quails?_

_From your claims I have so foolishly made haste._

_Now I fear that these flowers may not return for spring_.

•

"_And to think that I may never know of_..."

•

"What is your name?"

•

Honda Kiku

Craned his neck to the sky.

•

And who should

Preside

Beyond the tears in his gaze,

But the warmth of two

Fiery eyes.

A smile so impossibly bright.

And

The ebullience of stars

Threshold

Within armor of glistening crimson.

•

Fingers

Tender and warm in the

Cusps of a scarlet gauntlet;

They dried the tears from his eyes.

•

And it was like

Fire flowers

Had bloomed in the summer skies.

•

For while the cherries were viridian,

And the lyre

Had ceased its coy play,

The tiddle-dee

Of the bamboo flute remained

Slurring.

•

Spinning the start of a

New story;

Of a Knight and his Maiden,

And the

Beginning

Of a Beautiful World.

* * *

><p><strong>And they lived happily ever after. The end.<strong>

**Well, that turned out brighter than I'd expected! It was definitely much more cheerier than "Aiyaah Five Hundred Years"... I should probably do something cheerful for Yao too someday, and work on something a little dreary for Kiku. Though I still don't know how I might manage to pull that off, what with the limited selection of character songs I have in my arsenal. But I'm sure I'll figure something out soon enough.**

**Personally, the funnest part about writing this one poem was imagining Yao's face at the end of the song; you know, when he asked Kiku for his name. Yeah, good ol' times. Almost makes me feel guilty for binge-writing this in a day.**

**Almost.**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	25. Kiku

**Before we get started:**

**Narita: the name of an airport**

**Hao, Wang xian-sheng = 好，王先生 = translates as "yes, Mr. Wang" in Mandarin Chinese**

**and in Japanese...**

**Kiku = 菊 = Kiku's name (also means chrysanthemum)**

**Kiku = 聴く = variant for "listen"**

**Mr. Takashita is a dear old friend who I've chucked into the story, Yunqi and Norika are characters from another (non-fanfiction) story I'm writing, and Tadase is... I have no idea.**

* * *

><p><strong>Kiku<strong>

_A lesson for Yao, a lesson for Kiku and a lesson for you_.

I should have known

That

Tokyo

Was no place for a clueless husband

To be left to his own.

•

Yao,

Hair disheveled and grinning,

Blundered out of Narita

The other night.

He scampered into the boulevards;

Into

The clutter of neon lights

And city sights;

Of skyscrapers

And the livid scarlet of the

Traffic frights.

Bearing no name and

Stagnant

In his Japanese.

•

Like a lost little boy

(a happy, four-thousand-year-old little boy),

He

Approached a Mr. Takashita

And uttered the only word he knew:

•

"Kiku?"

•

And Mr. Takashita,

Jolly-faced Mr. Takashita,

Patted him on the back and said:

•

"Ah, yes!

The symphony of urban Japan is

Indeed magnificent.

The tootle of traffic

And the murmurs of civilization—

It's simply divine!"

•

But of course,

Yao did not comprehend

A single thing that was said.

•

And so he

Bowed stiffly to

Jolly-faced Mr. Takashita

And stumbled on his way.

•

"If I am to get

Any lead

To Kiku",

He must have thought to himself,

"Then I must find

Someone

Who speaks Chinese!"

•

And with that mindset,

Yao

Blundered into a

Chinese restaurant off the side of a road.

•

Approaching

Young couple Yunqi and Norika,

He said in fluent Chinese:

"Excuse me, but the two of you may be of help.

I'm looking for my husband.

He is

A nation just like me—

In fact,

The very crest of this land.

May you be so kind as to point out his whereabouts?"

•

At the request,

Norika

Turned to her love and said

In clear, incomprehensible Japanese:

"Beloved.

I do not understand this man,

For

I do not speak Chinese.

How may we possibly help him?"

•

But to Yao's disappointment,

Yunqi shrugged and said

In clear, incomprehensible Japanese:

•

"I do not comprehend him either

Love,

For I am a mere diaspora

And not

Fluent

In the tongue of my ancestors."

•

All this buzzed in

Through Yao's left and rambled out of his right.

These people obviously do not

Understand him,

And so,

Yao was once again pushed to

Utter the only word he knew:

•

"Kiku! Kiku!"

•

"But we are listening,

Honourable sire!"

Young Norika wailed.

•

"Or maybe he was just complimenting

This restaurant's infrastructure.

The finely lacquered notes of the

Chinese violin

Is indeed sublime.

Exotic to the aural senses,

I dare say.

•

"_Erhu_,

Honourable sire?"

Yunqi strummed an invisible violin.

Yao,

Albeit vexed at his foiled attempts at progress,

Nodded in his good-natured self

And

Stumbled away.

•

"It's clear to me now",

The thought must have dawned upon him

As he sipped a mug of tea,

Briefly smiling

At the strum of the

Pre-recorded _erhu _jive.

"It will take me all night

To find a Chinese-speaking soul

In this metropolitan labyrinth.

In that case,

I shall have to approach

The closest other I know in Tokyo."

•

And in that manner,

After three hours, seventeen minutes and fifty-seven seconds

Of bickering

And wrestling officers,

Yao was finally gained admittance

To seek audience with my prime minister.

•

Now,

While the fire had been quenched

In fateful 2015

And Yao and I re-married

In glorious 2045,

Being the gentle fellow of his resume,

My prime minister can

Still be found jittering

Before my husband—I can only imagine.

•

But he was a man of intent, and so

He gargled his tea down

And murmured:

"May I help you with anything, Mr. China?"

•

And my "Mr. China",

Giddy

At finally brawling off of square one,

Proceeded to warble

With a throat sticky in tea:

"Ah, yes!

I'm looking for Kiku

Honourable sire,

But

I cannot find him anywhere, for

It appears that I have gotten myself

Utterly lost

In this city."

•

"Tokyo has indeed grown",

My prime minister concurred.

"And

With the much-valued

Inflight

Of Chinese immigrants now,

Our city is fatter than ever before!

If you wish to seek Kiku…"

•

"I do!"

•

"Though as much as

I'd

Like to escort you,

I am unfortunately much too stuffed to do so tonight.

However, if you'd like,

I can always send one of my men

In my place instead."

•

Mr. China blanched.

"But can your

Man speak Chinese? For

While Kiku nags of it constantly,

I have not endeavoured to learning his tongue

Honourable sire,

And thus my Japanese is rather deflected."

•

A moment of silence commenced.

"He can definitely speak",

My prime minister assured.

"Tadase!

Come take Mr. China to Mr. Japan!"

•

Now, I have personally known

Tadase

Since he was a child,

And regret to admit

That the boy was as shabby in Chinese

As Yao was with my tongue.

And so,

While my good-natured husband

Had attempted to engage in

Idle prattle:

"How was the weather today?

Did you eat a good dinner, young man?

What was your impression of China?

Is your girl doing fine at home or work?"

Young Tadase simply nodded his head

And tooted the occasional

"_hao, Wang xian-sheng_".

•

But it wasn't until

Yao's jovial inquiry of

"When did you and this girl last made out?"

Was replied by a "_hao, Wang xian-sheng_"

Did he catch on.

•

He was riding in the

Passenger seat

Of a man deaf to his good intents.

•

And possible,

Probably,

_Petrifyingly_,

Any of his intentions whatsoever.

•

"Stop the car, boy!"

No answer.

"TADASE!"

"_H-hao, Wang xian sheng_!"

•

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

Yao transgressed the wheel

And rammed the breaks,

Flinging the vehicle

Onto a lonely curb in the brink of the nigh.

•

Tadase simply gawked at him,

Oblivious to the sin his

"_Hao, Wang xian-sheng_"s

had committed.

•

"Tadase",

Yao panted.

"We are going to Kiku's house,

Aren't we?"

•

"Um… _Hao, Wang xian-sheng_."

•

Yao pinched the bridge of his nose.

•

"Do you understand me!"

He gestured

With frantic flails.

•

Tadase shook his head blankly.

•

"Kiku! KIKU!"

•

"I may not understand,

But

I was listening!"

Tadase would have retorted.

•

And Yao, having

Combusted

His midget fuse,

Would have stormed out of the car grumbling:

"This difficult city!

This blasted, difficult city!

I am Wang Yao,

The great middle kingdom,

And

I shall find my way to Kiku alone

If it's the last thing I do!"

•

•

•

I found Yao asleep in a park

On my way to the fish market the proceeding morn.

I shook him awake,

Dragged him back home

And gave him a proper bed to rest upon.

•

Yao bawled to me the entire tale

Of his first night

Alone

In Tokyo,

And drifted to sleep with

Promises

That he'd take Japanese lessons

More seriously from then on.

•

That was his lesson of the night.

Mine?

•

That Tokyo

Was definitely

No place for a clueless husband

To be left to his own.

* * *

><p><strong>Foreign languages is important, people. Take me, for instance: back when I was a kid, I didn't think I needed to take Mandarin Chinese lessons seriously until I realized that I had to learn it as a symbol of my devotion to ChuNi. And to keep my grandmother at bay.<strong>

**-Plumeria-hi**

**P.S. to everyone celebrating it: MERRY CHRISTMAS!... And to those that apply, apologies that the greeting is one day late.**


	26. Christmas

**Because even a bickering old couple deserves something special on Christmas!**

* * *

><p><strong>Christmas<strong>

_A magical, Occidental Lunar New Year Festival_

"But I don't celebrate Christmas!"

•

I plopped into my chair with a huff.

Typical Occident

And their typical customs.

And they have the nerve to call

ME

"Exotic"!

•

Tino frowned his vexing puppy-eyes at me.

•

"But you should try, Yao!"

"And for what reason?"

•

He paused for a moment.

"It's such fun", he insisted.

"You decorate a tree."

"Trees are banned in China."

"The red and green decorations are beautiful."

"Red is beautiful. But with green? Yuck!"

"B-but you give presents!"

"I've been giving them yearly round…

•

"In exchange for a surplus in my economy, of course",

I snickered.

•

He shook his head disapprovingly.

•

"So what's so good about this

'Christmas'

Business anyway!"

I wanted to know.

"It's useless,

The décor is

All wrong,

And I won't be able to celebrate it properly anyway

With my laws intact!"

•

"But Yao;

Christmas

Isn't just about that!"

He pressed.

"Christmas is more than that!"

•

"Yeah?

And what is that?"

•

"Christmas",

Began Tino,

"Is a time to show others

How much you care.

It's a time to celebrate

The joy of giving;

Gratitude

To the things that really matter.

•

"And it's also a time

To be together",

He softened.

"Something I'm sure you'd really like this year."

•

My eyes bulged.

•

"How did you…"

"Everyone knows, Yao."

"That's insensitive."

•

"But if it helps you enjoy yourself,

It is my duty as

Santa

To commit it",

He stood up.

"You're as stubborn as Brewald sometimes.

•

"Yao.

I thought I'd get you

Really involved

In Christmas this year

Because you deserved it.

You've worked so hard

You've

Earned a reward",

He said.

"I know

It might be a little

Whimsical

For your taste.

I know

That

It is implausible for you

To carry out every tradition with

The state you're in.

•

"But",

he retrieved his coat somberly.

"Just think about it,

Will you?

And remember that

Christmas

Is more than just baubles and trees.

•

"Even just calling him

For once

Might do the Christmas magic."

•

And as I watched Tino

Slip out of the conference hall,

I couldn't help but think:

•

Christmas…

•

Is just a Western

Lunar New Year Festival.

•

And Tino knew how much I

Loved

The Lunar New Year Festival.

* * *

><p>Dearest Tino.<p>

•

I thank you

From the bottom of my heart.

•

I thought about your offer

And in good intent,

I called

Him,

Just as you suggested.

•

It quickly blossomed into more.

He found out

I

Was spending Christmas

Alone again this year

And came to visit.

We

Got a lot done;

Patched more up

Than we did in any summit

Earlier this year.

•

We spent Christmas eve

Happily

In each other's arms.

•

I think it did it.

I think it brought us closer;

Just another

Tiny step

Towards those better diplomatic ties

We were after.

And I think

I'm confident enough

To think about more for us now.

•

Thank you Tino,

And

I'm sorry I ever doubted you.

•

Christmas truly is magical.

•

Even if I had only

Used it

As an excuse

To be together with Kiku.

Regards from Beijing,

–Yao

* * *

><p><strong>Heads up, buddies!<strong>

**Be sure to check back some time tonight (if it's circa 3:30 p.m. where you are too. Otherwise... Be sure to check back some time this morning!), because there's going to be a second upload today! Not as merrily-themed as Christmas... But not as depressing as some of the other pro-Sino-Japan things I've been cramming into _Their Beautiful World_ as of lately, because I've decided that I'm going to be taking a break from writing those unless I feel like it.**

**Once again, wishing you all a merry, white (or awesomely rainy) Christmas whether you're celebrating or not!**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	27. Sandalwood Serenade

**Warning: this one's rated M for a good, solid reason (interpretable as birds and bees); proceed under your own risk!**

* * *

><p><strong>Sandalwood Serenade<strong>

_Risqué beauty glimpsed between the lines_.

Wisps of incense.

Like fingers,

Coiling and wafting and

Stroking the dainty tinge of your cheeks.

•

"What are they for?"

You yawned into my neck.

What are we doing?

Why are we doing this?

•

… We are doing this for love.

What we are

Doing

Is love.

Stripping it back

And stitching ourselves together

With a fine thread of red.

•

Now let's play nice tonight.

•

The

Wisps of incense

Will ensure you don't pass

The night in coy reverence.

So delicious.

So delicious you are;

A perfect porcelain dame

Whom I fear

Cannot handle

The ferocity of love.

For the night of the lovers

Is no easy game to play.

•

But be done with that, and

Let me be your teacher again.

Let me

Suckle the dirty scent of sandalwood

Deep into that sweet virgin heart.

Let it burn your throat;

The sweet, salty and bitter

Will not kill you.

•

… So beautiful.

So beautiful you are;

Rose and aglow

In the shadow of the brazier.

Whose crafty fingers are

Responsible

For this masterpiece?

•

Show me more.

•

And give me your all before the night rots and decays.

For there is no one else

Who will

Appraise them with a touch

More sensual than mine.

I know what you want.

I know what you love

And I know

Where that catalyst lies.

Tell me, my luscious chrysanthemum:

What other

Bed-wetting specimen

Will not use such weapons as an excuse

To shackle you?

•

I

Am merely

Lavishing what you deserve.

•

For you're such a good little boy.

•

Crimson sun over a white plateau.

Lover by day and

Moaning hostess by night.

Promise me

I'll be the only one

Who will ever listen to

The rustle of your eager robes.

Promise me

My gnarled fingers

Will be the only fingers you turn to

When the night is young;

When the lovers ache

And the incubus reigns the lark.

•

Now let's hear you scream again, my dear.

•

For as the

Sandalwood wisps

Engulf our bleeding passion,

You will be mine

Before the night is wasted away.

* * *

><p><strong>Long story short: one day, my mother and I stopped at a herbs-store. I had been waiting patiently by a stack of incense and was vying for an inspiration, when I caught a whiff of sandalwood, a common ingredient in incense. I also knew that sandalwood was supposed to be an aphrodisiac, so I thought-hey, why not write lemony poetry? After all, if there is lemony stories, then perhaps the thing could work for poems too.<strong>

**And besides, writing what I hope was decent lemony poetry might make up for the lack of lemony stories whatsoever up here. Perhaps if I tried to excel in lemony poetry, then I could be forgiven for still being tipsy-turvy with lemony stories****... Or I could avoid the genre altogether. But that won't be any fun for any of us, won't it?**

**Because no collection is complete without a little mischievous ChuNi every once in a while.**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	28. Beautiful You

**It's finally 2015, and 2000 is just as equally far behind us as the year 2030 is ahead! And it's gonna be a great year ahead for everyone; I can already feel it! Ellen here from the Plumeria-hi hub wishing everyone a bright, warm, and delicious ChuNi-filled year ahead. Keep that chin up, you beautiful beings out there! This poem is dedicated to you too.**

* * *

><p><strong>Beautiful You<strong>

_Presentable Yao-Kiku much?_

That morning,

The humble abode whose

Sole human occupant was

Honda Kiku,

Boasted a picture of

•

Total chaos.

•

Chaos evoked by a

Call

From his dear friend

Alfred Franklin Jones,

Ten a.m.,

Who declared

(Rather spontaneously)

That the world powers would all

Be gathering

In the café down the road.

•

"Twelve a.m. precisely!"

Had blared

Before the call was abruptly kaput.

•

And was to be

A noon spent

In pleasant silence

Shattered

Into pandemonium.

•

As Honda Kiku

Whirl-winded

In and out of the bath,

His toilette

And the last spoonful's of his breakfast soup.

•

And now

The real challenge presides:

•

The wardrobe.

•

Now,

One may be at lost as to the

Tremendous heights

This delicate specimen hath climbed

With the comb and the mirror.

For

Honda Kiku regarded his

Heritage in high pedestals,

The ideal Japanese icon

Must always be presentable to the publicity.

•

And this was a

Tremendous feat indeed,

Considering

That publicity was a client

With tongues of a varying colour.

•

For a first glance in the mirror,

Honda Kiku

Was wrapped most prettily in

His favourite blue robes.

•

He clutched it wistfully to himself.

It was

The first robes

He had ever stitched on his own,

And thus was a

Dear heirloom

To be found in his arsenal.

•

Blue like the cornflower's glow.

Cool like

Silk in the summer

And

Warm like a lover's arms.

And scented by the sweetness

Of a thousand years.

As much of a part of him

Was this robes of blue

As his

Esteemed Japanese tree.

•

"I'd like to wear this again",

He mused.

"But is it presentable attire

In the company of six Occidentals?"

•

The seventh of the company being himself.

The eighth being his beloved,

Whose name was

Wang Yao.

•

Ah.

The fellow of golden heart

Wang Yao.

•

"I love it when you dress like that",

He had said one night.

Kiku had arrived to the

Cusps of the silken bed sheets

Concealed in those very same robes.

•

"Why so?"

•

"It's just…

So you.

•

"And I adore you",

He'd smiled.

•

But would a company

Prominent of Occidentals

Love it

Just as much as Yao?

•

Kiku didn't think so.

•

And thus,

He'd spent the rest of

A very long time

Wriggling in and out from

One attire to

The other:

Shirts,

Camisoles,

Suits and ties

(And he was sure he'd thrown that cosplay out years ago).

•

But each had felt

Alien to his flesh.

Each

Was devoid of his stories;

His joy and his banes.

True—they were

Fit for Occidental company.

•

But they all rubbed his skin raw.

•

By eleven thirty-five,

Kiku

Was still frowning over a pair of jeans

When a

"Knock-knock!"

Clamoured from the door.

•

"Kiku?"

Proceeding was a familiar voice.

•

And Kiku's heart melted.

This time

Not

Because of the love

That whirled and churned and

Simpered in the crevice of his ribs.

•

But because

His beloved

Was about to witness him in

An oblong shirt and jeans.

•

Presentable much?

•

"Kiku, call my name once if you've yet fainted from sheer joy!"

•

"Y-Yao!"

He staggered to the door.

•

And who should preside

In the garden

But

Dear Wang Yao,

Striking

In a red sweater.

•

And how he smiled

A lop-sided grin at

Kiku's attire.

•

"Is it

That hilarious?"

The latter cringed.

•

"No, but

It's definitely new",

The elder admitted.

"So are we set to go?"

•

Kiku hung his head.

Evading his conscience, his

Thumbs

Began fiddling with the hem of his pants.

•

"… No",

He admitted.

•

"I thought so",

Yao's smile was as gentle as it was dashing.

"Can I help you with anything?"

•

His love nodded.

"Come with me",

And into Kiku's room they went.

•

For Yao was

A man who wore his

Jovial

On the sleeve of his shirts,

The unmistakable glint of surprise

Was evident in his eyes

As they scanned Kiku's floorboards,

Littered an inch deep

With

Articles of clothing.

•

"Another typhoon?"

He murmured.

•

"Analogous",

His lover shrugged.

"For I am a Japanese icon,

I must look

Presentable

At all times.

•

"But the predicament now

Is that

I don't know how to be

Presentable

With attire that doesn't rub on my skin."

•

"In that case."

Rummaging through the clutter,

Yao lifted an article up

By a dainty flick of his wrist.

"Try this one."

•

Kiku, overcome by intrigue,

Swiveled around.

•

And what should he see

But

His dear blue robes;

His favourite;

His prized attire,

Clutched gleefully

In the hands of his lover.

•

"But",

He made to protest,

But Yao silenced him with

A hand to his lips

And offered the robes for a second time.

•

"Try it."

•

And Kiku did.

And how he reveled at

The familiarity

Softened by Father Clock,

And how he reveled at

Its natural

Look on his figure.

•

And how Yao reveled at

The sight of a

Honda Kiku

Reverted back to the skin of his birth.

•

"Now that",

He made a move of dare

And hugged Kiku

Around his middle,

"Is the beautiful you

That I want the world to see."

•

"But is it presentable?"

Kiku pried Yao's hands away

And turned bashfully from the mirror.

•

"Dare you still ask!"

Yao guffawed.

"For like the flower

That best be enjoyed without jewel,

It is the

Beautiful truth of

Honda Kiku

That our world wants to see.

•

"Now come,

Flower of the orient",

He offered his elbow.

"The oafs await in the café down the road."

•

Kiku giggled in good nature.

He was still contemplating

Upon the presentable of his outfit.

But at least he could

Now contemplate

In a skin that fits.

•

Taking his dear by the elbow,

The lovers

Made their way into the streets of summer.

•

And if there be a lesson to learn

That day,

It was that the

Nuggets of a four-thousand-year-old veteran

Was a lore to be trusted.

•

For as Yao and Kiku

Appeared at the reserved table

A little later than allocations,

The six occidentals

Gathered around

A fun play of checker

Lauded the couple's debut.

•

But just as

Young Feliciano Vargas

Was about to squeeze his beloved,

Yao

Purloined Kiku's folding fan

And covered his

Pretty little face.

•

"Why, Yao!"

The pretty little face gasped.

•

"Yeah, what's the big deal geezer!"

Alfred Franklin Jones

Howled

In a mark of disappointment.

•

"This one's only for me to see",

He said simply.

•

"Then that betrays

Your claim

That this attire is what the world

Wants to see",

Fumed Kiku,

Muffled behind the folding fan.

•

"True: it is what the world wants to see",

He shrugged.

"But I was referring to

Our world;

The world between you and me."

•

"But I want to see too!"

Bawled Feliciano Vargas.

•

"Then that's just too bad!"

The four-thousand-year-old

Veteran

Deported himself like a

Young boy-child.

•

Presentable satire much?

* * *

><p><strong>For the last six months I've been nurturing <em>The Beautiful World <em>into what it is now (I shouldn't even call it an "it". I think my collection is a she... Or a he... Or a they! Yes-I think this one's definitely a they), if there's anything I learned, it's that being a ChuNi poet on FFN can be a chore in its own right. Attention doesn't come easy and there's more to poetry than I had ever imaged when I first dove into the business. For instance, did you guys know that poems are actually read to each punctuation instead of by its lines, similarly to a prose? (I only learned as I was writing _Monochromatic Amalgamation_. If you go back to read that one and the poems preceding that, you'll notice the stark difference, hahah) And did you know that the best poems have to be multi-interpretable? (I only learned my lesson in the middle of writing _The Princess Who Seldom Smiles_. I feel it's something that I still struggle with to this day). Yup-poems are harder work than it looks, people.**

**But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have fun with _The Beautiful World_ so far. I got to try a lot of fun things I haven't done before (parodies! Parodies!), learn more about the art of poetry, and everyone's been so kind and supporting. But over that, it's the ChuNi and all the ideas I can just cram into this collection that has made this one crazy ride.**

**And now that we're prowling into the year 2015, I'm definitely not going to stop this any time soon.**

**Let the craziness commence.**

**-Plumeria-hi**


	29. Crimson Galleon

**I'm late I'm late I'm late!** **... I don't know why, but I'm feeling a bit of deja vu coming on right now.**

* * *

><p><strong>Crimson Galleon<strong>

_Yearning in the whim of a salty sea breeze_

Should you dispatch yourself to sea,

Will you remember me?

•

"For half a year and nothing more, Kiku."

Mane and robes of silk

Tousled upon the gust,

My dashing teenation is fit to explore.

"Then I'll be back,

And we can love again", he smiled.

•

The galleon and her

Crimson sails

Beckon you back.

Wretched contraption;

To steal you away from my arms

For half a year!

•

My heart of sorrow quails at the prospect.

•

For I am a nation

Born of the sea,

I know her like a mother his babe.

•

I know of her

Belly's lust

For the daring and prude.

How savagely she swallows those vessels;

How they sink to the saliva of her

Guts,

To never return.

Ten thousand fellows of valour,

Their flesh a feast to the fish.

Leaving their widows to howl and covet.

•

"But what if you don't?

What if I never see you again?"

I hang my head.

•

It's not fair!

I've only been here in

This foreign land

For five years with you.

"Come back with me",

You'd said.

"I'll show you things beyond your wildest dreams",

You'd said.

•

And now you shall flight

On the junk that brought us back.

To more foreign lands and sweaty peddlers,

Far, far away

From anywhere I can whisper your name.

•

I'm selfish,

But I've come to treasure a dream that

You are mine alone.

•

Not Rome;

Not Persia;

Not those Mesopotamian fiends.

•

You're mine

And

I don't want to let go for anyone else.

•

"Now don't say th—Kiku?

Is that a tear I see?"

•

I shake my head furiously,

Snuffing the first away before it could fall to my chin.

•

The sea shall steal you from me.

Be it for

Half a year or forever.

Be it through wreck or reap,

The sea shall steal you from me.

•

I need you, Yao!

I'm cold and I'm small and I'm scared.

The bed will be twice empty,

The winter thrice blue

And the blue of the sky devoid of crisp,

Blended into the dark of my eyes

That shall be raw and red every morn.

•

"Don't leave",

I can't hide it anymore.

I cry into your arms;

Amber _kimono_ against red robes.

As if the warmth of our colours

Will make up for the absence of your

Ambience

When the galleon takes you away.

"Don't leave me, Yao.

I need you;

I'm frightened here without you."

•

"Why so?" You laugh softly.

"China welcomes you like a lost lover.

I love you with all my heart;

My people appraise you like kin.

It is of warmth and joy

That awaits you here,

So that you are at home even when I shall depart."

•

"But it's to waste

if I can't be with you.

•

"Take me with you!"

I begged.

"Take me with you!

I won't be any trouble; you know I won't!

•

"I can't live without you anymore,

Yao.

It's an addiction",

I sniffled.

•

But he twirled me and

Laughing, said:

"You truly are a child, Kiku.

•

"You will be fine.

That

I know I can

Expect of you", he cooed.

"I am a child born of the river yellow,

but I know the sea

Like a father his babe.

I know

How she thrashes and roars;

She is a beldam

With the vivacity

To sink even the vessels of my craft.

•

"I can't bear with myself,

In this life nor the next,

Should I let anything so much as

Prick your slender fingers.

•

"Now I must be off."

The galleon's sails flare

Crimson against the robin plateau

Of the sea and the sky.

The roar of the captain,

Demanding that you board immediately.

•

You stare at me forlornly.

But why is it

That you are smiling with

Warm, dewy eyes

As you murmur:

"One last kiss before I go?"?

•

Choking back the tears,

I give in to

Your final wish.

•

"Take care of yourself and Yongsoo.

It'll be over

Before we know it."

•

And as you clambered aboard the vessel

And give me a wave of your hand;

And as the galleon,

With its dragon sails,

Fade into a dot in the robin quagmire,

I sob again.

•

Wondering if

You'll remember me

When you dispatch yourself to sea.

* * *

><p><strong><em>The day my Kiku came hurtling back to me:<em>**

**_Soldiers in the streets;_**

**_People on their knees._**

**_•_**

**_The ships they sank to the bottom of the sea_**

**_On the last day of December._**

**_•_**

**_Aa-ii-ya-ya_**

**_Aa-ii-ya_**

**_On the last day of December._**

**_•_**

**_... *_****cries grotesquely***

**-Plumeria-hi**


End file.
